there's a vole in my pocket the vole got in through the hole having scurried up my left trousered leg beneath green corduroy - rock 'n' roll yes there's a vole in my pocket it's jiggly it's fidgeting about so now i've resorted to cartwheels in the hope the little shit falls out ...
Poem
stuff to do
there are still many energies that remain untapped such as every dog tail wagging a mass-wag or the collective spin of every hamster in its wheel so leave mater earth alone & let's make these energies REAL ...
did you know… ?
on this day in 1743 a pheasant laid an egg beneath a walnut tree ...
april fools day
april fools day tells day 'i'm may' - 'already, so soon?' day twigs come noon ...
thoughts on thoughts
thoughts come most go some throb some glow some prod some bite some come in pieces some fight some fright some charm some bear gifts with intent to harm some abstract-mime some dance but often it's ants in their pants some sing some wail some want my mind it's not for sale some suck with a straw some dazejà vu they've been in before some spark some extinguish some talk all foreign some dabble in english some sneak in through the tunnels some knock & say 'hello' thoughts come most go ...
let’s shun cardigans
let's shun cardigans but still pen poetry then it's like diving without the bit where you breathe into the depths of madness insanity's black vastness or if that's too much too soon then why not roll-up your sleeves ? ...
elcric lluf
on a clear day i can see cheeky faceless he beyond the horizon but never the front instead as from the tips of hilltops yes frequently i will spot conditions permitting it's the back of my head ...
i love you saint swithun
i love you saint swithun you're nothing like the other saints i love you saint swithun it's different this time i love you saint swithun it's not gay 'cause you've been canonized i love you saint swithun & i'm glad that you're mine x ...
upon awakening ken enning
upon awakening ken enning 'come on kenneth, get up' upon awakening ken enning he didn't like that much upon awakening ken enning he punched me with a low blow upon awakening ken enning so i smothered him to death with his own pillow -oh no r.i.p ken enning the end (ing) ...
allium ursinum & thereabouts
it's an overcast sunday let's afternoon stroll along the flat of the valley 'neath the dales as they roll by the banks of the river where the wild garlic grows suitably level but a delight for the nose ...
resarf poetry 