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on a friday morning in october ( in england )
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on a friday morning in october ( in england ) not ruritania or gallifrey or finland not yet november that's the future - as per when too soon for noon yes around abouts then ( x ) ...
Poem
it’s the ape ( interface )
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it’s the ape ( interface ) by 4657586812432.16930
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flabbergasted cheeky bastards bloody hazards it's the ape opto-thermic part mashed turnip where's y'permit? ( interface ) ... ( t h e e n d )
world aplomb day
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world aplomb day by god help us all ( again )
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everything today must be done with aplomb be it strolling down the prom or re-enacting the somme eating a bonbon or being a peeping tom it's world aplomb day aplomb go on ...
alternative options
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alternative options by actual base reality ( so there )
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if you can't write from the soul there's your arsehole if you can't write from the soul there's your arsehole ( so ) if you can't write from the soul there's if you can't write from the soul there's if you can't write from the soul there's your arsehole ( your arsehole ) ...
bloody word madness
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bloody word madness by they started it when they sowed their wicked seeds
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bloody words oh fickle buggers drive us insane out the other how's your cousin? is it raining? gradually they do your brain in without these words there'd be no mad or no poems oh no - so sad words are bastards wanker sandwich what time's lunchtime? mind your language ...
the ice age is coming ( tomorrow )
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the ice age is coming ( tomorrow ) by doom mcgloom
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the ice age is coming ( tomorrow ) 'tis looming its cold's almost here it will get nippy circa mid-morning then stay for one thousand ( ish ) years the ice age is coming ( tomorrow ) so stock up on tinned soup & vests all earth will freeze deep sub-zero degrees so find a warm cave all the best ( x ) ...
walking into autumn
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walking into autumn by bvhuy8.3
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as swans sing songs one ambles on still there somewhere as avalon or mysteries quite mistily broken biscuits or history this foggy path this soggy track is this a trick or just a trap? i am but stumped no hierophant am i so plod on with silence ...
bedfordshire
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bedfordshire by tuesday’s serial-somnambulism
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i saw you in an atlas once oh bedfordshire since then i've known you're real what do people do in you thou bedfordshire how do they think & feel? i've upped some wooden hills to you to bedfordshire when tired - in need of sleep but that's just a saying not thee bedfordshire a true mystery to me ...
planning
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planning
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roman town centres? i'm all forum ...
pointy fingers
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pointy fingers by humphry sideways
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as the trees shed their leaves as they fade from their green as the mists they persist swallowing summer's dream as the daylight retreats to reveal winter's scheme blame autumn it's all autumn's fault ...
