The Sun is secretly Belgian but it's never told a soul like Eddie Merx, Stella Artois or the Smurfs for fear of losing its sway & control. As some Sun worshippers would demmand blood if they found out & no doubt switch their allegiences to the moon (!), oh the Sun is secretly Belgian & Jupiter's diabetic but don't tell a single sausage or that sun will come for you ...
Art
doppelgänger
You are here but where are you? Pottering - as we do in a 2nd hand hand shop or berating giraffes at the zoo? But not the okapis has it joined the Illuminati or has it overslept its way to Crewe? Maybe it's behind the sofa or playing games with supernovas - You are here but where are you? ...
this hum
There was this hum in the air from nothing much in particular - just a collective mix abuzz from bits of things & stuff. So I decided to join in & with a Trad. Folk tune didst bombinate - in the hope that music might catch on & this drone elevate then dominate. It remained a solo effort ...
mister roget was creationist scum
Well of course the Thesaurus has been an absolute godsend of a cheeky - handy - sumit else tome, since the time - period & era that its fellow dinosaurs roamed. & hen 1 day evolved chicken pox unwell - the others all got spots & died away, technically a book no, not actually a reptile - but it still it endures now to this so very day ...
the moral maze
Cars often pull over & ask me for directions for example 'Where's Gibblet's Lane?' & if I know I'll answer their question, to aid them on their procession out of the kindness of my heart -It's no strain or pain. However, if I haven't got a clue e.g 'Where's Garroter's Avenue?' I'll just make something up all the same. On the off-chance that I'm right, as you clever ever know it might, & either way I'll probably never see them again ...
time bollocks
Now, a stitch in time may well save 9 but we've yet no way of knowing. Beyond mere proverbs & words & crossed digits, bricked turds it could be 8 or 10 still -GET TEMPORAL SEWING ...
still mainly green
It's still mainly green here, like the contact-less eyes of a jealous monster. & the sky is mainly blue too, like a depressed & filthy joke, yet still 1 ponders how much longer ?
electric fence therapy
Beyond the
penultimate
stile
of m’ walk
there stood
an electric
fence,
which I decided
to try
& its voltage
imbibe
on the off-chance
it charged me
with sense
…
& erased
all the shite
so I gripped it
so tight
-Then came shock
‘AAAH y’ cock’
Ergo thence,
reflex robbed me
of grip
plus current
gave me
the slip,
as local livestock
laughed
at my expense
…
(try again)
still the telephone
https://www.youtube.com/embed/soXdnisOWCs“>http://
Well, I’m afraid that the telephone
is sadly very necessary,
despite sound progress with technology
there’s gaps in our telepathy
…
Plus pigeons have their limits
& messages in a bottle achieve shit all,
but I still look forward to the day
when my brain
is bothered by nuisance 3rd eyes
& withheld psychic calls
…
the dog’s buccolics
Back in the green a true pastoral scene, an external chapel a wish in Winter's dream ... Be it meadow, peak or bracken wherever chance & stuff may happen, the splendour shall possess & gently caress you shall be taken abacken ... By the ambrosial leaves & part-time bees the enchanting beauty, oh so serene, but when it then gets too much & you've now had enough just insert sumit like: Fuckin' obscene ...
