Hum a music-thing upon awakening as shite daytime punches y' face; the Radezky March or the theme tune from Emmerdale whatever row rows your boat - a songbird chirp or hurdy-gurdy 'n' bass. Hum a music-thing in shit-traffic & HUGE queues & whilst surviving the jostley pavements in town, hum a music-thing then every1 else might join in until atishoo atishoo we all fall down ...
Poetry
pass it all on…
Nan used to tell me old Folk Tales & never-ever-ever-ever eat your own toenails only other peoples' that internet is evil the Hun don't like it up 'em & next door are in league with weasels. Plus it's only witches that get chickenpox twice butterflies are too nice always neat - no ice & sometimes wolves are sheep in disguise never double-cross a morris dancer - yes, she was wise ...
jam (at a glance)
Strawberry's for tourists & the yawningly boring, Damson's handsome & Plum makes us glum, Greengage beckons seachange & Chilli burns y' bum. Raspberry? Exactly if it's a Bakewell Tart it has to be, Rhubarb well that's an extra's script & Blackcurrant's dark-Satanic-shit. But delicious, sublime & great, Apricot binds a Battenberg Cake, Traffic's too slow to merit a mention plus Toe's for scent & show NOT human ingestion ...
sheep get everywhere
Flockin' Hellfire! Them sheep get everywhere beyond as far as my eyes can see, so it's only a matter of time like before they're our Shepherd & Master - yes, the inevitable ovine conspiracy. From cold Arctic wastelands to peng desert islands be it Dalesbred, Gritstone or Ryeland - say y' prayers, aye even the monster under the bed is running chicken-scared as last time I looked there was actually nothing there so I check for sheep instead now 'cause sheep get EVERYWHERE (!) ...
gradualism as cardigan
"Actually that Blind Vengeance does have legs & wings & fantastic ankles amongst many other things like hectares of charisma" The steaming Kettle sings. "Hurry up" ...
1 o’ them
Them Javelins have been to far-flung places & the average poem has 18 point 3 elbows. The Pheasant need not placate Dark Forces & George de Mestral well he created Velcro ...
grab a pew…
Mildly unamused Libran Tree Surgeons, frenetic Phrenologists, diabetic Numerologists. Liquid Petroleum Gasp enthusiasts, Mesolithic Mendicants, all Entities great & sentinent. Including secret-mitten-knitters, Visigoth staticians plus the Venerable Lamashtu - grab a pew ...
madrigal stuff
They sang of the many elbows of Love all 11 thousand & VII point 8, they sang of the Duckworth Lewis Method & the 1 giant conjoined eyebrow of Hate. They sang of the phosphorous nostrils of War which have been kickin' off since pre-Days-of-Yore, they sang of the Skylark & the Sand Martin & of Charity-Shop-Shop-Lifting harsh but bargains. The sang of Daydreams then Rainbows; variegation magic & those moments when the brain goes, they sang of Metamorphosis - a chrysalis, the fibs of Sisyphus & Great Uncle Syphilis. They sang of the Badger & THE HOLY GRAIL, eye of Newt plus the Pony tail, they sang of Beige-Death with its puce, relentless fangs yet the days they're getting lighter Fuck-Shiter - they sang, they sang ...
today the sun went orange
Today the Sun went orange & none of the guessperts know why but nonetheless there it sits all massive like its citrus-based coloursake shining in the sky. Maybe it's fake-tan or fence preserver or it wants to go marching with William's fan club in July - twinkle - thinkle - the child prodigies they wonder as today the Sun went orange & none of the guessperts know why ? ...
may contain traces of seepage
I found a poem inside a poem inside a poem inside a poem well beyond & within its pungent oniony skin. Hiding between layers with Lord Lucan & a Russian doll whilst wondering am I the end of this or merely the tip of begin ? ...
resarf poetry 