~

santa claus in late may ( yam etal ni sualc atnas )

…

hoe, hoe, hoe
the dandelions

on the frostless
rockery

pause for tea
or a makeshift picnic

not sherry
or a bloody mince pie

trim, trim, trim
a summertime beard

holly berries
well unready

red currants rising
redder than before

reindeer graze
under whitsun’s white sun

no snow though
green beam the grasslands

elves gone a.w.o.l
off their nuts

missus christmas
left me for the milkman

mister kipling
or mister whippy

( who was it this time? )

…

~

b3f4h8-o905vk24f ( f42kv509o-8h4f3b )

…

six percent of statisticians

eat marshmallows for breakfast

eighty eight thousand

have never seen a barn owl

two thirds feed

a tomcat called gavin

tins of sardines

& tiramisu

nine percent grow

begonias in their garden

three quarters of fact checkers

piss in antique teapots

one in five analysts

live inside a pie chart

seventy seven percent

snorkle in freshwater

…

~

t w a d d l e ( e l d d a w t )

…

t en thousand turnips

television tentacles

turpentine turnstiles

w hile winds weather west

wombats, wombles, wishing wells

whitsuntide whistles

a s arthur awakes

apple anoraks abound

aardvark armistice

d umpling dunces dee

double-dutch ducklings dance

dandelions droop

d ruids drink daydreams

daleks discover dada

dyslexic dentists

l ettuces lemon

lemurs licking lichtenstein’s

lumpen, leaden legs

e pileptic eels

elemental elephants

excalibur eggs

…

~

hello again ( niaga olleh )

…

the garden is gargles
of martians & marbles
a passing of parcels
a trellis is beaning

the present is clement
a fez on a pheasant
the hue is fluorescent
a pigeon is preening

the future is pebbles
a pocket of shekels
a packet of revels
the melting of meaning

the baker is burning
the doctor is gurning
the maidens a’ churning
a kettle is steaming

the roses a’ ringing
a robin is singing
a mattress is springing
a tramp trampolining

the salad is flowing
as blossom is snowing
the thicket is growing
a greeting of greening

…

~

when the pens run out ( tuo nur snep eht nehw )

…

it’s pencils instead

if the paper’s still okay

until the graphite’s gone

like a singing swan

& then they burn the trees

coz books contain paper

& paper comes from trees

growing like money

as the future is a boot

but the muses will insist

then chalk upon the yard

pausing for hopscotch

or carve upon stone

a hieroglyphic haiku

cuneiform prose

the shape of a coma

until all stones are cancelled

& drawing boards beckon

the answer is madness

a squashing of bug’s blood

a dash of silverfish

a healthy splosh of cockroach

grey like a sunday

on white asylum walls

…

( author notes )

i’m planning to buy wordpress

for a fiver & a big bag of revels

watch this space

( any day now – they’ll cave )

…