…
horned like the morning
striding on crunches
cornflake flooring
feet twig beneath
us two fools
in matching green cagoules
seeking a glimpse
of the nymphs or sasquatch
once grey rooftops
gave way to cloaked oak
there where the elfin
cracks us up like popcorn
robin hood’s hood
the lord of misrule’s old skool
in this cosmic copse
in his leafen universe
…
…
hayfever, hatstands
the golden horde or frogspawn
nor haley’s comet
…
…
yes, my carbonated mate
is best served from the fridge
slurp him high on chemicals
he’s coloured artificial
been bubbly since bright youth
& still slightly uncouth
he’s mister fizzle out
( he’ll be flat in half an hour )
…
…
climbing up snakes again
scaling green serpentine heights
life beyond the treeline
breathing in the black clouds
& sliding back down ladders
…
…
gathered like a teatime
guaranteed a deep, deep
sigh & an eye-roll
over the clover leaves
from the greenest pasture
gone like a cuckoo
toodleooh then
since wore more pringle
& rediscovered ovaltine
since was slowly down
a grainy midlands town
vast glacial cracks
until one magic june’s
rainbow revelation
rebooted, regenerated
life on the patches
after the wife ran
off with the milkman’s cousin
todger intact
thank god for that, though
( free online to read )
…
…
once upon a picnic
lemonade in hand
cheese & pickle me, please
if the which is sand
pardon then & marbles
as the peach is canned
daze a haze of gravy
in the greenest land
time is like the blossom
when the day is blue
we became a statue
speckled i & you
thee, the gleaming milksop
’til the pale is tanned
i stand on the bandtstand
but am not in the band
…
…
~
insert the right word
or the meaning is lust
~
no one’s impressed
if you rhyme rain with spain
~
ignore the current thing
& do your own bollocks
~
readers should be passengers
upon your paper plane
~
fuck the dead greats – mostly
as most of them were wankers
~
proof read before
it’s in the pubic domain
…
…
man eats moon
move over mozart
mars is next
…
…
breaking news
the elephant hawk moth
isn’t an elephant
or a hawk
but may still be a moth
( we’ll keep you updated )
…
…
fifty p in change
underneath the sofa
eight greylags
vee a skein above
honking over rooftops
slates & chimney pots
sixty six freckles
upon your uncle’s arse cheeks
gravy skin suit
the parson’s nose job
best before the twenty eighth
reheat on gas mark four
pardon my parsnips
slide like a friday
thirty three minutes past
two in the afternoon
…
resarf poetry 