There appears to be a storm in your pocket a raging gale drenched howls of wail. There appears to be a storm in your pocket cold nefarious fronts arctic gusts of mistrust. There appears to be a storm in your pocket keeping people indoors its terror batters with force. Oh there appears to be a storm in your pocket - 'cause there is please tell me where you bought it or is this storm a gift ? ...
Poems
orangutans are not the only fruit
Never play chess with a Diocesan they'll cheat when their distractions spell their wicked ways. & never ever try & triple guess an Ombudsman they're fickle-unpredictable just like a month of Jonathans ...
how to end these things…
I never quite know how to end these things I'm not fat or a lady babies cry when I sing. Plus proper dogs bark & the little ones just yap as The End Is Nigh decries with signs finally accurate all cities collapse x ...
a 2nd hand poem
I bought a 2nd hand poem off a strictly cash man who I chanced 'pon a Shrovetide morn. I took said poem home & plugged it in to much bemoan - YOU ROBBING GET the Sprocket's wet & the Thingy-Shite's worn. Useless ...
in between sneezes
In between sneezes & disease related wheezes sternutation hesitation mini lull world destination. Yes in between atchoos this fragile bubble time in lieu providing some respite from gesundheit - maybe it's cleared nostrils crossed disappeared ...
routine inquiries
It was probably a Tuesday or Thursday so let's call it Wednesday as a form of compromise. It was either evening or early so now it's afternoon - let's follow through with no surprise. They said their name was Graham or Susannah so let's say Grahannah in the absence of objections. & they definitely went off in 1 of several directions & that's all I recall Your Majesty any further questions ? ...
a village of 2 halves
The villagers that reside to the south of the river are the stuff of local nightmares they frighten us - we shiver. Those southerners they ingest human flesh, stir tea anti-clockwise plus the animals & incest. ~ As the river flows through the heart of this village it alligns, defines & keeps the North safe in its grim. We burned the bridge last April muttered curses - turned the tables but there's some nasty hearsay circling apparently they can swim ...
hellebore & thereabouts
The Earth is flat, blancmange-based & hollow & I once met Winter on a frosty-morning-morrow. Babbling about Christmas, Rizlas, bad snow, piss-beer plus - "I don't suppose you've grown my rose?" & then he magic-vanished disappeared. ~ Gone ...
when games go wrong…
Simon says stand on your left leg. Simon says hop on the spot. Simon says now put both hands on your head. Kill Simon.
can i stroke your poetry?
Can I stroke your poetry? Is it tame? Has it had the vaccinations? Is it house-trained & almost tolerant of children or will maim my face all hate & nasty machinations? Can your poetry do any mad tricks? the surrealsome 6, hex twig sticks & back flips, or bury a mouthy pheasant or perchance chase a bone - oh please tell me is your poetry sweet lovely's true epitome & free to a fairly goodish home? ...
resarf poetry 