a poem about river ripples

the river & its ripples

its dimples

its wrinkles

its jiggles

its wriggles

mass trickles of dribble

from little to middle

to mighty wet

 riddles

of slippery wiggles

of rivery ripples

...





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little sprinkles of evil

little sprinkles

 of evil

should be practiced

everyday

like throwing stones

into unsuspecting rivers

swapping 'round traffic cones

chuckling all the way

or getting off the bus

a stop later than you paid for

having pushingitly

rang the bell

or informing a drayman

that your real name's graham

& then gradually you'll inch

slowly

closer to hell

x

...






grey matters (other version)

there are bits of whitsuns

daydreams

foamy moments

shaving cream

there are intermissions

crevices

edgy head land

precipices 

there are glimpses

of past lives

like aristotle

nell gwynn's cousin

irwin rommel

& there are draining times

plus energies

then lemon trees 

memories

x

...