s c a t t e r s


s c a t t e r s ( s r e t t a c s )

s pring is in the wings
of a pigeon in a hole
c lutter flies the flag
like a weasel up a pole
a s the normalz dance
with the bollocks on the snooze
t hunder rumbles on
& an otter swims the blues
t ime is tickled green
in the even of the morn
e lephants forget
for the past is yet unborn
r unaway & bee
with the bumbles up the brae
s ing upon a hill
& buzz the scuzz away

quizzical contact


quizzical contact ( tcatnoc lacizziuq )

alphabet spaghetti
is illegal in slovenia

henry the eighth
was born in a hay barn

clay pigeons nest
in a hole in the earth

all dark matter
is a shade of magenta

one in four apples
is secretly a pear

bears smoke kippers
with the pope – in the woods

most gnomes freeze
if seen by human eye’s

pie chart pastry
is flaky – yet invisible

may flies live
for sixty seven moons

lemon curd is banned
in the land of kurdistan

stick to the path
or the thicket consumes

answers on a post-it note
– fact check & lose

found on the 18th of march


found on the 18th of march ( hcram fo ht81 eht no dnuof )

add one beaten egg
songbirds learn their song
the same way that humans
learn how to speak

charged with murder
left in a coma
gathered in parliament square

liquid concentrated
no right turn
9000 tonnes
of discarded hardware

road ahead closed
may contain nuts
for oral administration

( author notes )

i didn’t write-write any of the above
just collected & rearranged


tiny foldable ditties


tiny foldable ditties ( seittid elbadlof ynit )

sing a song of epics stunted
written by a flea with glee

spittle spurts of verses blunted
penned or pencilled spidery

scribbles tucked within a pocket
kissing keys & chiming there

rhymes inside a little locket
nestled with the pubic hair

of a lover or a stranger
or beneath a dunce’s cap

musicals on scraps of paper
crumpled odes that overlap

not a novel or a cycle
not a sonnet – spank the lord

just the custard of a trifle
– this is where the treasure’s stored

shat’s all folks


shat’s all folks ( sklof lla s’tahs )

sing a song of unsung

with a tungsten tongue

bee a beast of burden

’til the seed is dung

spinning in the stillness

swimming in the cack

light another candle

brighten up the black

flippin’ ‘eck – it’s morning

flying like a fly

fuckin’ ‘ell – it’s evening

time is swirling bye

let’s begin again then

chase another tale

once upon a stumble

so the glowing pale

spark another roll-up

lark a flaccid wing

whistle in the doldrums

’til the winter’s spring

as the jammy dodgers

scribble on with glee

parping in the parlour


i’m up in the attic

gawping at the wall

waiting for minerva

– writing bugger all

hill fog yourself


hill fog yourself ( flesruoy gof llih )

greetings, view-consuming gloom
blowing on your morning horn

roaming shapes of speckled wraith
whisping of a wanderlust

breathing sheets of breathless still
silent like a walking corpse

yonder is a leafless tree
or a headless horseman’s horse

wonders one & ponder on
with my tracing paper eyes

scribbles in my wonky bonce
squinting in the gasping gaps

as the smoking low cloud’s feet
plods upon the sodden ground

i’m a floating ghost in you
– eater of vistas