~
frogg off ( ffo grof )
…
why those marching men
them of marshes, bogs & logs
croaking in my throat?
…
~
( author notes )
& in case the p.c hate mob are reading this
the photograph is a cis female womxn lady
( she / her ) ewe
… happy now …
?
~
frogg off ( ffo grof )
…
why those marching men
them of marshes, bogs & logs
croaking in my throat?
…
~
( author notes )
& in case the p.c hate mob are reading this
the photograph is a cis female womxn lady
( she / her ) ewe
… happy now …
?
~
barnstorming barnacles ( selcanrab gnimrotsnrab )
…
pickled onion sun
nimble ninja nun
stub a little toe
fission fisherman
flacid flabbergast
gorgon plaster cast
jungle jumble so
juggle juggermast
jangle jasmine jam
mizzle milligram
myrtle vertigo
tinsel tinker’s damn
fawning caribou
cornet cockatoo
boggle bungalow
gosling peekaboo
rubble rubberneck
shuffle upper deck
trumpet strumpet hoe
vernal verger trek
mitten ministry
kipper synestry
pluck a fiddle so
suck a dictionary
…
~
one of those daze ( ezad esoht fo eno )
…
waking the bread, squawking the dog
walking a torque, haunting a bog
cows in the brown, facing the grey
misting the bus, pissing the day
feathers ‘n’ dust, riddling lips
tumbles of tongue, bottles in ships
bugs in the bots, webs in the flies
ebbing a flow, ghosting the skies
toasting the beans, open the end
blur in reverse, foaming a friend
blinking a sea, singing a whale
leaden’s the stead, twisting the tale
scratching a map, gravel in boots
graphing a plot, circular routes
boxing a frog, scallions weep
sleep beneath eyes, eyes above sleep
…
~
when every other fucker on earth has a podcast ( tsacdop a sah htrae no rekcuf rehto yreve nehw )
…
when every other fucker
on earth
has a podcast
( so in the next year – or so )
other than i
of the long, quiet plods
wandering yon
in the tumbleweed twilight
roaming the gloaming
the hills are still green
breathing the air
of that phantom land’s there
guided by birdsong
( a map in me ears )
home & a sandwich
a book in the bath
hush
or the others
might interview you
vetted by five eyes
the c.c.p
regressive “progressives”
the p.c brigade
weasels in the small print
digital brains
mutant algorithms
& quantum bots
when every other fucker
on earth
has a podcast
( earthlings are such
an original bunch )
…
~
tales from the dales & beyond ( dnoyeb & selad eht morf selat )
…
in the land of the ram, in the mizzle ‘n’ fog
in the wank of the damp, in the blood of a bog
is a song t’be sung with a twist of a tongue
with a skip of a hare ‘n’ a hop of a frog
in the lair of the larks, in the dark of a moor
in the tale of a wraith with a phantom – or four
is a plot in a hole with a toad ‘n’ a mole
as the partridges crow & the peregrine soar
in the den of a then, in the when of a now
with the moo of a ewe ‘n’ the baa of a cow
with a dog of a bark – or a snarling of snark
is a vegetable man with a pen as a plough
in the scatters of splat, in the scribbles of sleep
on the trough of peak ‘n’ the top of the deep
is the whispering din of a hymn in a spin
in the land of the ram, in the kingdom of sheep
…
~
them of s & m ( m & s fo meht )
…
keep a watchful eye
on the ones that banged the pots
put up banners, bunting
& waved their munting flags
those of twitching curtains
covid as jehovah
wanking with the doom
on the six o’clock snooze
happy in their muzzle-mask
gleeful little gimps
them of s & m
grassing up the wrong’uns
worshipping key workers
( keys can open or lock doors )
useful fleas & fodder
troopers of the gloom
busybody flesh-bots
seeking praise of others
squirming worms in tins
irksome village quislings
pillars of community
means pillocks of
the weasel wood
dead in all but paperwork
fred west lives
under their patio
…
~
go fragment yourself ( flesruoy tnemgarf og )
…
hepatitis bumblebees
buzz a sea shanty
barracuda troubadours
buzzards up above
be the three in binary
diametric sweats
turtlenecks & ducking doves
all you need is glove
supper’s in the oven, love
like a turning shrew
screw the flaky gravy skin
fuck the custard’s crust
may contain nuts in may
escalator – esque
best before the trojan war
scrawl the way home
…
~
galanthus ( suhtnalag )
…
when the sunken sun
thaws the fallen all
then the drops drip up
– winter’s curtain call
…
~
the warm-up man ( nam pu-mraw eht )
…
one pale odd-bod
new moon boots
ten pairs of socks
fifteen tracky-beez
eight lucky underpants
four boxer shorts
five thermal vests
seven zipped hoodies
nine pairs of mittens
three yeti fur coats
scarves upon scarves
& a woollen bobble hat
waddles out the door
seeking higher ground
up a fruzzen hillock
’til the pillock sweats
( gotcha )
…
~
candlemas wax ( xaw samweldnac )
…
once anon upon a swan
singing in the spinning yon
as the crawling, yawning dew
shines away the night
cycles in the snorting air
rocking like a horsing chair
yet the flapping phantom flu
sucks us in the shite
yesterday is rain again
chase a tracing paper plane
catch a dancing kangaroo
all the daze a blur
bouncing on the thawing ground
balls of orblets sprawl around
springs within y’ shuffled shoe
as the catkins purr
& the gormless normalzzz falls
teeter, topple weasel walls
paddles in the annal’s pooh
flee this tangled web
riddle in the twisting mist
scribble little piffle lists
music is the mutant glue
things t’do in feb
…