Poem

warts & all that

~

warts & all that ( taht lla & straw )

…

piss the pale away
the milk of sopping sunday
i in my cagoule

minstrel of the mist
a frog within the fog seas
newts & shoots of green

laughter in the wood
another weasel pop song
intermittent owl

sleeping shrouds of clouds
the smudge of leaden pencils
pen of elfin then

grey beneath the fade
a ghost of gold october
ghouls a leafen path

see the rings of kings
a toad upon a toadstool
croaking on his throne
…

meanwhile’s cousin

~

meanwhile’s cousin ( nisuoc s’elihwnaem )

…

grey between sunbeams
haze between dream’s deep

four jackdaws
in the doldrums of my mind’s eye

the milkman & the postman
swapped moustaches for the day

three pygmy shrews
danced a tango on the patio

lemon curd was spreading
on the top of toasted teacakes

& the grocer saw the ghost
of himself – in a puddle

as a hag in the local rag
married a badger

the courts say it’s illegal
– but maybe it’s love?


…

rubber chickenpox

~

rubber chickenpox ( xopnekcihc rebbur )

…


scatter graph parallax
missing gaps, pavement cracks
scrabble babble axe

scrumpled sheet, shuffle feet
scrawl in all – incomplete
shudder sugar beet

onion sun, rumble drum
muted hues, fiddle dumb
pluck a pickled plum

pepper spray, chase the day
string a vest, west away
suck a lemon grey

shrouded cloud cotton socks
roses, hips, dripping clocks
rubber chickenpox

river mist, mistletoe
undertows overflow
scribble as y’ glow
…



 

thoughts beside the estuary

~

thoughts beside the estuary ( yrautse eht ediseb sthguoht )

…


rivers can be salty – too
like dry roasted scrotal sacks

there’s a shanty in the air
singing tails of dogs at sea

under skies of mutant blue
grains of sand within my shoe

is this the real life?
is this just fantasy?

egrets aren’t actually eagles
– they’re herons
…

dreaming of sweden

~

dreaming of sweden ( nredewds fo gnimaerd )

…


i’m dreaming of sweden
whilst eating ryvita
the land of ikea
of blondes & long summers
of forests & saunas
with winters of darkness
but england is darker
& britain is sinking
the nordics are calling
europa is falling
& earth’s in the clutches
of globalist quislings
& pantomime horseplay
so flee east of norway
as ace of base, abba
& stockholm – her syndromes
are chirping like hatchlings
i listen & harken
the garden’s in tangles
with thorns on the brambles
the cure is far worser
a scourge of a killer
as curtains are twitching
& tossers bang pots
the plot is all rotten
the dross at the bottom
so come & run, reader
& leg it with me
we’ll peg from the sniffles
& fuck this scamdemic
bee free from the sheeple
& wankers in masks
…