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bollocks – it’s december ( o h , f u c k . . . n o t a g a i n . . . )
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markets vent the vendors muddles spur the benders whispers kiss the winter sparkles spark inventors sledges man the slender circles stir the embers citrus licks the splinter stockings shock suspenders hobbles swerve the tenter wobbles nerve the centre timbers snare the limber branches bare surrender portals door the enter settle rests the render spittle spits the linger bollocks - it's december ...
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december then by 24 lines of themz ‘ing read poemz ( ‘ing )
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december then so wish us luck snow white rabbits the 1st - pinch punch the month of ten & raving suns plus julius octavian the mistletoe & frost bit toes oh yule you fool i don't suppose a ribboned gift is wrapped for me do partridges roost in pear trees? who gives a shit? get spending yous money's a god sod off - not true dark afternoons as solstice looms airing cupboards them dried mushrooms the piss'eads prowl with santa hats upon their heads the red-faced prats december then so wish us luck & then the end the end? oh fuck ...
resarf poetry 