my inner-busybody


my inner-busybody  (  a  p o e m  o n  i c e  t h e  m u s i c a l  (  i n  9 – d  )  )

( my inner-busybody

told me to )

write an article

for the local parish news

tut like a king

& co-ordinate queues

in god's absence

& to keep an eye on you

( wankers )


there’s a ghost in me toaster


there’s a ghost in me toaster  (  a  s h i t  p o e m  )

there's a ghost in me toaster

& a dragon in me kettle

little imps in me fridge

& in me cupboards

the devil

( ! )

there's a troll in me fruit bowl

which is more than i can handle

wicked covens in me oven

fuck it

breakfast is cancelled

( forever )



the greats are dull


the greats are dull  (  t o o  m u c h  t r u t h  i n  1 6  l i n e s  )

the greats are dull

the classics bore

it's no wonder

most folk ignore

this poetry

it doesn't help

its veiled self or

anyone else

this much is clear

yet on things plod

like michaelmas

or dogs in clogs

yon sun still shines

that wind still blows

this poem's shite

( at least i know )