~
too hot for xylophones ( eight lines of bellend )
…
oh trombones be thy skies above as oboes - doze so in yon fields so it's too hot for xylophones but not too hot for glockenspiels ...
~
too hot for xylophones ( eight lines of bellend )
…
oh trombones be thy skies above as oboes - doze so in yon fields so it's too hot for xylophones but not too hot for glockenspiels ...
~
bat flaps & hedgehogs ( a few lines inspired by the pic )
…
there's bat flaps & hedgehogs & kicked balls for mad dogs as goosegrass is creeping that backyard needs sweeping the lawn is all rustic the shed door is busted the summer sun's leaving this garden in evening ...
~
them & so & so ( too much truth )
…
so speak to me of people
of people i don't know
of people that i'll never meet
like them & so & so
& leave no pebble unturned
unleash those anecdotes
it might look like i'm dozing but
i'm writing mental notes
...
~
17/6 ( some largely-gibberish inspired ( ishly ) by the picture what i took )
…
as d.js in p.js are dreaming in clichés i'm green-phased in three ways sweet f.a as leeway a field day not d-day nor sea change - the wheat sways a breezed wave - a heat haze neath branches the sheep shade ...
~
ants in pants & raspberry rasps ( some literary jism )
…
ants in pants & raspberry rasps ripples in time & pies in graphs skies in cloudy lemonade ale in drafts & maths in our maps frogs on logs & on in our jogs circles in crops & sods in odds quips in whipping creamy dreams geese in schemes & skeins in our plots poles up beans & gleams in our eyes muddles in whys & shite on flies days in sleepy weekly naps pigs with wings & truth in our lies buzz in bees & puzzles in trees monkeys in lieu & ticks with fleas thoughts of gravy stain our trains everything is where it should be ...
~
roll on autumn … ( truth in its purest form )
…
wacky flipflops tacky gift shops summer's a wanker ...
~
noodles ooze from our noddles ( a contemporary )
…
insects, sticks, twigs & twaddle dead leaves crunch - on we toddle what the duck? so we waddle who are we? pigeons squabble holograms, hobs in hovels faerie folk read our novels puppets pull at our toggles noodles ooze from our noddles peaking troughs, tops & topples whooping coughs, bellends nobble thorax this - bears in goggles on the ales on them cobbles bugger all always boggles landy ahoy! in a bottle dutch mills spin, belgians waffle try it too it's a doddle ...
~
village dark ( a quickie x )
…
vlad the impaler nips in the bakers as jack the ripper chats to the vicar ...
~
artichokes & out the other ( one for the flannels )
…
in that mirrored cousin land where everything is arse-to-front there artichokes aren't outside-in with hearts exposed yet leaves within or so folk say - i've yet to go where dark suns glow & echoes get louder ...
~
hot toes ( something i started on yesterday )
…
hot toes
puzzled troubles
scraping
soapy fumbles
thin-air
lemon scented
wednesday
part-fermented
vest strings
gently plucking
cowslips
tipping - tumbling
much is
doubtless hiding
scared or
elsewhere skiving
fuck off
dizzy dribbles
gobshite
pissy quibbles
belt it
chuckle buckles
sweet as
honeysuckles
werewolf
pickled onions
sealed tight
phantom bunions
pop this
in the kettle's
song-sing
( hope things settle )
...