Poem

lines re the laughter in the woods

…

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

…

uncle susan’s diary

…

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 )

…

fifty p in change

…

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

…

the darling buds of maybe

…

yes, perchance the ants will dance

in a bumpkin’s barn

probably the breeze will sneeze

beavers dam & darn

badgers might invade peru

if the sapling twigs

beanstalks scratch magonia

penguins fly with pigs

fatter lambs on pastures graze

scotch egg hatchlings preen

poets unwrite purple prose

traffic lights stay green

certain stirs more than the rest

yet that west wind blows

southern norths & east again

up the parson’s nose

at a toss the sea could wave

at the midlands far

rubber chickens cross the road

as we umm an aah

balladeers with big ears could

bore us all again

woods in oakest albion

shelter us from rain

it’s likely – like v.d that

june is next as well

possibly the wasps will bee

if the bluebells knell

( ? )

…

spatchcock friday

blessed bee thy bumbles
thy stumbles & thy staggers
but there’s daggers in the eyes
of the hi-vis enforcers

~
voltaire’s horse
bolted after thunderclaps
captain birdseye’s cousin
will meet you in the cubicles

~
bring your own sandwiches
& speak unspoken languages
fear the lollipop
the lady of mortlake

~
crematorium
we’re scrawling down in lieu
yes, in memoriam
plodded like all tennyson

~
the dismal drear of yesteryear
yes, drizzle disappear
a momentary tortoise shell
a herring-red admiral

~
or hannibal, the punic wars
but animals in human form
will scowl us tossers to
& fuckers fro, then home

…