Poem

my farmer-lives

~

my farmer-lives ( another shit pun-job )

…




down in ancient sumer there

i herded goats

up in caledonia

i tilled them oats


in the fourteenth century

i tended sheep

when all was victorian

i gathered wheat


before scarecrows came along

i scared the crows

when the vikings invaded

my sows farrowed


with straw in my mouths - with my

rosy cheeked wives

but not in this life - no

- in my farmer-lives -

...

the lesser-spotted poet

~

the lesser-spotted poet ( or poet minus-maculis )

…




the lesser-spotted poet

can be seen in dim-light

through squinty binoculars

around dawn or twilight


they're solitary creatures

who don't do packs or herds

they're lairs are all metaphored

they hunt for juicy words


they don't lek as those grouse do

or rut as those horned deer

they breed under those blue moons

but only on leap years


their numbers they are down now

their future's on the brink

so please help if you can as

too soon they'll be extinct

...