where would we be without wonder ? ( a wonder ) those wonders define who we are oh where would we be without wonder ? ( another wonder ) there's no way we'd wander that far ...
Poetry
apples ‘n’ pears
as long as there's apples well there's always pears they're kinder than apples to be fair them pears care they lack the sheer arrogance all apples possess so far from being inferior yes pears are the best ... ( author nodes; but strawberries are still better than raspberries - let's not get carried away ... ) { the end }
stit shicks
patrick webber made it up in the bath then later told alexander handstand for a laugh now alexander handstand is a gullible soul which aint in any dictionary yes on the bollocks rolled so alexander handstand nattered with that denise quiche who contacted the tabloid press then in due course - police thence the tabloid press went shit-ape oh those vultures often do as we're all innocent until guilty or near enough but everyone knew thus it must be true ... (the end)
warning signs – alarm bells
warning signs - alarm bells the songs of enya death knells entrails - chem trails ingrown toe nails vintage steam fairs - hiccups then lightning struck the bishop oh warning signs - alarm bells foretell with reason mean well ...
white socks under sandals
i'm still too scared to wear white socks under sandals pulled up to my knees for fear of bastard judgement from a variety of angles in this so-ciety oh no doubt them gingers would stick their bloody oar in then yell YOU'RE GOING TO HELL so it's odd socks 'n' trainers aye a different form of strangeness no death threats yet yes all is well x ...
a pecking order
a pecking order the system of chicken the sequence of beak ( me first ) ...
pillow factory explosion
the pillow factory exploded in the middle of the night it awoke the sleeping town folk with a boom & a fright it blew up with intensity well-beyond smithereens leaving just the neatest, cleanest crater ever-seen (?) ...
my tiger tin
dear my dear tiger tin in which i keep stuff 'n' things you were £1 in poundland you were bought on a whim since then through thick & thin from front rooms to festivals i cant be without you essential as testicles yes without you one's lost like grime without wiley or countdown sans perving at rachel riley oh my dear tiger tin in which i keep shit 'n' things i fucking love you oddly my heart sings x ...
nipples
as the wind picks up & in places whistles i ponder that slippery mystery - male nipples we don't really need them yet there they sit surely the gods are telling us that everyone's a tit ...
( mary )
recently i've not been myself yes far too often i've been someone else all morning i've been mary queen of scots implicated by that bastard babbington plot & if i carry on this gender-bend way no doubt they'll behead me down at fotheringhay yes recently i've not been myself since the others spiked my apple juice - blame everyone else ...
resarf poetry 