…
singing us back
mister bump & tickle
tony the tiger
exmoor ponies
next turn for coleslaw
walking pole to pole
freon in his veins
radio derby ram
darth vader’s head
gathering detritus
fridge magnet man
semi-skimmed insides
cool like the blind
with their shades indoors
white plastic skin
him of ants in pantries
humming like a sleeping bee
give him souvenirs
your trinkets & your life
– it’s another stick-up
…
…
my only friends are
rosy cheeked midget men
fishing by the garden pond
hoping that a goldfish
will tickle their tackle
…
…
inserting turnips
where the sun don’t stroke
sack the t.v chef
guillotine the d.j
chastise the m.p
rage at the bots
the what’s & the not’s
the lollipop lady
that eats her own roadkill
twisting frilly knickers
y-fronts & what the fuck’s
gasping pantomimes
the a.i e-thot
that ran out of code
so the cloud devoured her
read all around it
the pilchard poet
that wore odd socks again
dot them dots then
droning like a chainsaw
whispering foghorns
huffing all morning
twatting all the mirrors
steaming ’til evening
…
…
the pebble in your left
orthopaedic shoe
& rain last tuesday
a certain afterglow
in the sunset’s curtains
when we both squint
plus the cataracts
in the glass eyes
of the blind mortician
or the sparrows nesting
in the west wing
of the matron’s beard
the gnomes in the garden
that wink when we blink
perfectly in sync
like the lipstick smeared
on the vestigal nipple
of the bishop’s catamite
are all redder
than a blushing herring
square one beckons us back
…
…
all of mange tout
is the flesh of my lord
he is the green
in a foggy winter soup
the chick in y’ chana
& the holy frozen garden
resurrected ghost
when reheated
behold the king of fritters
praise sweet flower thou
the rehydrated christ
in y’ pot noodle
is my mushy messiah
the universal pulse
religion of peas
yes, god in every pod
…
…
poetic on paper
papyrus or ostrata
~
half a yard onward
spring is only dozing
~
strike three times
with a branch or large twig
~
whistle greensleeves
then lick both ends
~
listen by the wayside
may contains nuts
~
after the gathering
blathering songbooks
~
batteries included
glue guns fully loaded
~
enter the author
exit the aether
…
…
yesterday’s grey duvet
warmer than before
meanwhile the bean stalks
starlings each dusk
bugels & badger musk
pencil in if needed
but we’d rather be
floating like a ghost
answers on a lamppost
…
…
stick it
to the mango
…
drystone walls they reign over this land great baseborn barriers maintained by man bricks placed by hand all weather - withstand enduring time's span because they're hard because they can ...
resarf poetry 