~
( sneeze the day ) ( yad eht ezeens )
…
a-ch’
a-ch’
a-choosday
…
~
( sneeze the day ) ( yad eht ezeens )
…
a-ch’
a-ch’
a-choosday
…
~
snoitcerid ( directions )
…
wash your hands again
like a modern pontius pilate
no right turn
or your birthday cake will burn
don’t the feed the unicorns
unless you’ve got a licence
best before yesterday
wear a pair of wellys
fly like a nightingale
box with the frogs
stick to the path
like a first class stamp
never eat shredded wheat
god save the badger
bend both knees
on a tuesday afternoon
be a good sheeple
& listen to the government
grow your own potatoes
in a hobbyhorse trough
may contain hazelnuts
& shut the fucking gate
this is not a circular
serve with seasonal greens
…
~
twenty, twenty, gone ( enog ,ytnewt ,ytnewt )
…
a roger up the buggered rear
a sausage of a sodding year
a little lizard’s lottery
it’s crystal cricket vision here
a paddle in the riddle’s pooh
another loosened mutant shrew
the flapping karens cancelled me
& nanna got the phantom flu
& so the rabid weasels rained
but cabbage poetry sustained
as muzzles masked the cattle “free”
& planet earth is shackle-chained
the droning global scrotums lie
so more will stumble, fall & die
so let the bumbled normalzzzz bee
& we will spread a butterfly
the road’s a fork, a bendy swan
it’s torque is twenty, twenty, gone
the past’s a rotten apple tree
& inkling scribbles bubble on
& fuck the piddle bucket’s list
with knotted knickers in a twist
the yawning dawn is calling thee
beyond the fog of yonder’s mist
…
~
all hail the cheese gods ( sdog eseehc eht liah lla )
…
fruits of the socks
the flocks
& the cocoa
babybel ringers
& cadbury crunchies
lovers of chilli
the stink
of a bishop
blue veined stalwarts
chips in a muffin
cheddar or white like
milky bars
– sparkle dark
king of the crackers
the soul of a pizza
queen of hobnobs
& the crack
in penguin biscuits
all hail the cheese gods
& chocolate goddesses
…
~
blah, blah, corona, blah ( halb , anoroc ,halb ,halb )
…
mutants, drones a wojak
on the six o’clock snooze
so the muffled muppets shake
little chickens shitting bricks
there’s a snare within the air
in the absence of a hare
as i shop with cash
with my stubbled chops unmasked
there’s the scars of self-harm
in the startled eyes of cattle
& a gap between the ears
in the year of the weasel
in a two ‘n’ middle eight
of a wank swansong
when the cult of science spins
so the hermits stroke their chins
there’s a star before the dawn
in the marbles of the morning
but the normalzzz is a wall
& the fucker will not fall
ruddy worms in every can
irk the squirms within my journals
words gather dust
like nightingale hospitals
…
~
pixies pixelate ( etalexip seixip )
…
pixies pixelate
dance in hairy faerie land
imps in the matrix
…
~
the storm in my eyes is only your shadow ( wodahs ruoy ylno si seye ym ni mrots eht )
…
there on the spot
where all hinterlands cross
fingers in knots
crystalline air
– snow, if you must
& butter my toast
with your sweet toe jam
in between deep green
runner bean daydreams
is a dead red door
sort of metaphor
yet the cycle spanners
with a siskin song
& a badger in the bracken
will the dogwood bark
if the alder catkins purr?
paper planes sail then
underneath solo
pear tart harpsichord
in the other-other garden
there is a parsnip
that never parps out
owls in the background
let them eat jaffa cakes
…
~
twelve daze of yulemas ( sameluy fo ezad evlewt )
…
twelve elves in shell suits
bobbing in the woodland
eleven ewes are loose
– there’s a goose with a gun
ten winter wrens
if the pickled pen says so
nine pints of water
from the spring before the river
eight middle eights
in a shitty christmas songbook
seven pheasant feathers
in the field behind the graveyard
six zip cardigans
knitted by the pixie folk
five chocolate coins
in lieu of legal tender
four androids
for every human here
three ducks waddle
on the bridge beside the weir
two sharp pebbles
from the innards of my shoe
& a parnsip in a parp
from the bandstand in my bottom
…
~
re tradigrades ( sedargidart er )
…
squirm, wormed anthropods
slug-flea mysteries
stump-legged phylum-types
feast in sediment
scoff bacteria
sweet as honeycomb
so i magnify
spy with titan eyes
peer at cyclopes
with my giant stare
see these little beasts
up all wintertide
shite not in the woods
shit ‘ot little ones
dance there on the pond
four-clawed water bears
…
“a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.
it would be better to be under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies”
c.s lewis