Poem

the madness of snow

…

first, the flutter of a swan

dans the druff & catches on

as the crystal fungus spores

so a tosser wanders yon

~

shudders in an ermine realm

squawks beneath the birch & elm

songing sings of winter’s wars

when a penguin’s at the helm

~

then the so’s a polar bear

breath is speckles in the air

spring, the hinge in swinging doors

grease her up & frolic there

~

mars is marches in ‘is boots

parping with the brussel’s toots

buzzing while the buzzard soars

carpeting the greening shoots

~

while the white is still allowed

from a non-“progressive” cloud

dawdle ’til the blanket thaws

magic is this – shining shroud

~

plodding beats with yeti feet

’til the sheet is pouring sleet

& a thankful river roars

then – alas – the spell’s complete 

…

the truth about lord nelson

…

lord nelson had one eye
lord nelson had one leg
lord nelson had sixteen nipples
lord nelson invented spandex
hot pants, bitumen & vimto
lord nelson went to mow
went to mow a meadow
lord nelson had
an affair with pat butcher
& a punch-up in the woolpack
with cain bloody dingle
lord nelson played
saxophone on baker street
backgammon with elvis
& hammond organ
on a whiter shade of pale
plus games of naked twister
with eva braun & hitler
lord nelson spoke
beautifully fluent
vulcan & klingon
with a romulan accent
lord nelson had – a ten foot wanger
lord nelson grouted my bathroom
a fortnight later
all the tiles fell out

…


our daily bread

…

cobs for the male swans

sliced white for the n.p.c’s

wholemeal for our bowels

rolls for hill walkers

& those on choppy seas

baps for the crap jokes

( as told by tits )

soldiers for a runny egg

banana when the bread

is a secret cake instead

( ssshhh )

stale for summer pudding

charred black toast – for the carbon god

& crusts

for the ducks

( amen )

…

do poem

…

do feed the animals
do run indoors
do sing a song
do another poem
do the write thing
do the twist
do the funky chicken
do wash your hands
do pay with cash
do keep the change
do cut your own hair
do ride a sine wave
do save the whale
do bring back the dodo
do the ess in maths
do the pee in ptarmigan
do the village bike
do wear a helmet
do the garden hedge
do take sugar
do-bee-do bee-shoe
do scrape that barrel
do the fandango
do agadoo too
do pay the piper
do mind the gap
do brush your teeth
do get to sleep
do a to-do list
do their fuckin’ heads in
do take photographs
– don’t ever stop

…



in the magician’s pocket

…

twenty yards of rope

rope for floating boats

chocolate coins

seven pence in shrapnel

the royal philharmonic

an obligatory rabbit

fifty five pineapples

an oxbow lake

a dove-shaped pigeon

a throbbing wand

/ magic parsnip

two more universes

my glamorous assistant

a bone-dry otter

skeleton backdoor keys

& your card all along

…

the frogmen & the beekeepers

…

not just the policemen

but the frogmen & the beekeepers

are getting younger too

& yesteryear’s saplings

are forests instead

i walk in them each morning

& often still get lost

or stuck in throbbing thicket

in between broadsides

& water slide moments

hostas in a bathtub

where’s my pile cream?

the queen’s a bloody bloke

who married a mare

the price of eggs is soaring

like a paragliding buzzard

…