pears & thereabouts

~

pears & thereabouts ( stuobaereht & sraep )

misshapen apples
unmistakably them

merry of the perry
mutants of the fruit world

there in the orchard
where partridges roost

cousins of quince
twins untwinned

fit for a tart
perchance a bar of soap

drops, juice or raw
with a cup o’ rosie lee

watch while they ripen
bulbous like a fatso

pick them two by two
each is unique

( author notes )

” you don’t get anything for a pear

– not in this game “

( old trad-anon proverb – at least medieval )

a night in the wilds

~

a night in the wilds ( sdliw eht ni thgin a )

a little owl growls
& a frog in a bog – howls
so a badger croaks

hark, a moth flutters
& the branches drip like gutters
as the marshland smokes

wafting wisp’s o’ willow
where the sedges are my pillow
& the teasel teases me

or upon the moors
where the hare squawk on all fours
with the fae & she

face the blankless bright
when the woodlands whistle shite
crows the hedgerow’s hog

so the chorus glows
caw the jackdaws in the close
squawking with the dog

still overrated

~

still overrated ( detarrevo llits )

life as a normalzzz

four-four music

processed pop pap

the plods of a bot

shiny sweatshop shoes

sliced white bread

( bring back bread knives )

black suits at funerals

the kung-flu jib-jab

staying in your lane

net zero none sense

protein shakes

the latest thing’s hot cakes

christmas ( not yule )

magnums & cornettos

cucumber sandwiches

all those fucking poems

especially those sonnets

with cobwebs in their bonnets

the bloody london eye

& binley mega chippy

umbrella standpoint

~

umbrella standpoint ( tniopdnats allerbmu )

possibly a thirty three

see the grey wagtails

later on – i’ll eat my pie

like the great wall of china

hence the green backdoor

six pence in change

she’s had the painters in

oliver cromwell’s uncle

it makes the womb look bigger

the forty fourth of february

pleuronectes platessa

monster trucks on the moon

( author notes )

britain isn’t in morning

because it’s gone midday

alternative names for autumn

~

alternative names for autumn ( nmutua rof seman evitanretla )

harvest fest’ after party

conker season thing

michaelmas terminus

summer’s sequel

the goosebump months

winter’s prequel

goose bugger off time

mizzletide stuff

the chestnut episode

dawn of the parsnip

fungal slumber

old shuck’s stomping ground

wellingtons & cobwebs

the maypole’s downfall

the fog days of shudder

green leaves a’ leaving

ghosts a go-go

oooooh là là

~

oooooh là là

do they eat their chips
with frog’s legs
– not fish?

do they wear a beret?

& bicycle
in stripy jumpers?

are their boulangeries
on their high street?

perhaps a chemise
– tabac or piscine?

are their homes
lit by chandeliers?

do they refer
to their anus
as a tooosh

not in the doldrums
of derbyshire

but over the border
in ashby-de-la-zouch

( ? )

veg out

~

veg out ( tuo gev )

goodbye broccoli

goodnight carrots

laters potatoes

adieu sweetcorn

spinach – in a bit

( y’ tit )

& so to bed, beans

hasta la vista – leeks

see you anon, swede

nice one turnips

peace out – peas

au revoir parsnips

fuck off sprouts

humphh

~

humphh ( hhpmuh )

righting a song

in the wronging of along

hymns in the head

with y’ leaden legs of dread

trot like a fox

or a monkey with the pox

paws at the lights

as the even’ breeze – she bites

stop ’til it’s green

& the now’s a bouncing bean

gurn at the bend

with a poem what y’ penned

burning a page

in the book of endless beige

down in the frown

of a pickled onion town

then with a pen

& a rubber duck or hen

squawk in a line

or the local swine will fine

wait in the queue

but the queue won’t wait for you

dressed for the rain

but the rain – he never came

goss dross toss

~

goss dross toss ( ssot ssord ssog )

have you heard the latest?
the poet down the road

is worshipping a hedgehog god
as per so & so

he of touching trees
muddy trouser swagger

fodder of the bots
phantom of the hunters

the spanner in a raincoat
the scaper”s goat – g.o.a.t

is picking rowan berries – there
& talking to a toadstool

where the air is sylphid
& singing songs within

instead of talking to
the likes of i & you

we, the weaseled tropes
with ghosts in our software