…
last seen lost & wandering
without a cagoule
on a saint swithun’s eve
as the western then blew
grey clouds in some more
…
…
last seen lost & wandering
without a cagoule
on a saint swithun’s eve
as the western then blew
grey clouds in some more
…
…
unbroken toes
velcro on both elbows
so the odd is off
greener than grass
yesterday’s grey sky
is stuck in the pantry
try diagonal
reallign us right
less trodden footpaths
those beyond the crossroads
the phantom first of many
last quarter moons
afternoons & mud baths
fruit bats & musical
obtuse interludes
beckon like cornflakes
or a flaming moth
& other plasma pals
risen is the oak
the birch is still a burk
pour more coffee
…
…
king size fifty five
quarter past hammock
ten to cabin
the flowering now
futon twenty two
…
…
cut throats & long bows
yes, so the old legend blows
( it’s mud what won it )
…
…
everything is cobwebs
send for reinforcements
seventeen hen’s teeth
six hundred rubber chickens
let the bellend begin
…
…
stagnant stags standing
statuesque the stillness
uncracked eggshells
~
then when before
that-a-way’s odd socks
& hot chocolate sachets
~
music is the muse
of your long lost uncle
let the hedgehogs fly
~
super glue the curvature
unarrange the furniture
& lick a puddle’s ripples
~
die each dream
the tangible’s a trickster
tangled in brambles
~
the moon is out tune
all the chords sound cool now
owls agree with we
~
us, the toffee suckers
under twilights treeline
badgering dawn
…
…
& your advert goes here
plastered like a gash
postered like lost cats
stuck up like a bank job
( look forward to ignoring you )
…
…
march, march
a lion roaring in
like an irate lamb
march, march
a mad bastard hare
is boxing fog & puddles
march, march
the starch on your pants
another laundry daydream
march, march
a troupe of baboons
escaped from the zoo’s confines
march, march
the shape of tomorrow
is leafen & somewhat green
march, march
the cherry blossom zen
overloads – then explodes
march, march
a lamb baas, leaving
like a sleeping lion
…
…
black velcro crows
yes, it’s one of those
stuck on the sky
lost in my true
highness of the welkin
fridge magnet alphabet
cotton wool water
rubbing like balloons
look at those weirdos
floating in sweet blueness
we’re upon the meadows
over earthly clover
in medieval hoodies
longer than a raincoat
not the latest smear
steering clear of drizzle
gawping for britannia
mooning with the moon
this is how the clouds grey
but mayfly live forever
gulliver’s ghost
is a bright white pigeon
nature is my second
cousin twice removed
…
…
dogs won’t bury you
or chew you in the bandstand
you juicy trumpets
…