Halfway through the coldest oldest month of The Years when head-shat bites hard & Arctic blasts reappear yes roughly 50% of 1 twelfth - is it snowing? Or just confused sleet the usual sheet so keep going ...
Poetry
optional
You don't have to give your hair a comb or iron your clothes to mind your own or look both ways when crossing the road 'cause life's too short - they're optional those ...
mind the gaps
Apparently it's gaps that are key as gaps make the whole thing breathe but please remain wary of the spaces that you leave or these gaps they might take over words are our sanctuary ...
old scientists
Old school science shit text-books you were far too dated then with graphs 'n' graphics of a former century & black & white photographs glum fuzzy hairy men. Plus women with the thickest glasses in Christendom it's amazing how we have a population now I hated you 'cause you weren't English or History but somehow I still keep you -which is a fucking mystery ...
often but mainly then
Some statues frown the proper cheeky ones wink the Turin Shroud novelty tea towel blinked as shadow figures pass between which should scare or surprise almost unseen from the corners of my eyes ...
how they make freckles
You put your left hand in your left hand out wait 'til next April then shake the mucus out whilst scattering Natterjack Toad bones libations of Irn Bru plus offerings of Toblerone a pocketful of rye then a Mind's Eye of imply & that might do it it's worth a try ...
a night in the life of a moon-shunner
They shun the Moon its Magic beams then sleep in overlapping dreams of a world without Wolves safe from harm or scare then they wake up like a lightning bolt & check their palms for hair ...
behind closed doors
What lies in store behind closed doors they're magical places surprises galore ? Who knows from here our thoughts are extraneous; a battered old garden or a Narnia for atheists ? ...
puddle power
Yes Puddles are alive in a variety of shapey-sizes from 1 droplet of Puddle-Stuff to 2 thirds of the Earth. The bits that stagger Puddles are classed as 'Streams' 'Big Streams' or 'Land' strange heathen places despised by Ye Gods so everyday these Puddles EXPAND ...
definitely a brewing
The bin by the bus stop wasn't bursting to the brim & the bakers had a symbolic queue of 2, the birds they sang of Spring then other chirpy feathery things as last night's rainfall in the river obeyed the valley - flowed on through. A Libran nearly sneezed as the chimneys smoked freely unblocked by stuck burglars or dark Satanic soot, this is conspiracy the calm before the treachery the seeds of deceit shit, something's afoot ...
resarf poetry 