when cows lie under clear blue skies with not a single cloud at all is this a form of fraud ? ...
Poetry
f*cki*g *oems, *astar* th*ngs …
they hide behind bushes then flash us unawares then leg it off in the nud somewhere over there they sneak into our gardens in the perverse depths of night then in the middle of the lawn they shit a massive shite they babble next to us on buses when loadsa double seats are free clothed but recognizable please stop bothering me & so i shout through the morrow mist as birds begin to sing 'SHAKESPEARE WAS A FRAUDULENT WANKER - FUCKING POEMS, BASTARD THINGS' ...
( … it’s 3 again … )
yes there are moments when the head goes gets sucked into the hedgerows part magic - part mad then roughly 1 third fuck knows ...
oh well & bollocks to it …
wood land land wood handstands good good mugwort rickshaws foxgloves jigsaws deep roots fun nymphs shin pads sun glimpse somewhere bark free top copse wrong tree ...
science-shit
if that there archimedes had never-ever washed he'd have stunk to high-heaven & we'd be at a loss but he got in that bath then them waters got deeper thus inventing the word & moment - EUREKA ...
there’s a badger in my soup
there's a badger in my soup & i've no idea why the world's tiniest badger it's the size of a fly it wasn't on the menu i don't know what to do there's a badger in my soup - no, wait now there's 2 ... (author nodes; the plot thickens (again) )
a fortnight’s worth of beardy-weird stubble on a day bursting with bubbles
carbonated horoscopes the morning blows its straw nucleation for the nation bristly hangs the jaw effervescent lathered barms balloons of consumed air fuddles bastard bubbles versus confused facial hair ...
knit
knit for britain knit for mittens knit for jesus et al knit toy mice for kittens knit for its therapy knit for the therapists knit balaclavas for hooligans & terrorists knit for the faerie folke knit for your family knit together black holes knit for reality knit for warm winter scarves knit through all shit knit for infinity knit knit knit knit ...
wild flowers among castle ruins
wild flowers among castle ruins the head's a beverage thoughts-a-brewin' as life plods on & all that glibness they say here's haunted a wraith i've yet to witness apart from the headless ones consequences - quencecons a punished uprising but now most of the stones have gone as bricks for the local homes scattered yet abound like these wild flowers but the other way around ...
glistening christening
may all not drown what sail in this poem may its trees bear fruits as its nymphs blow flutes has it had the jabs? has it been chipped & tagged? can it find profound - ideally via nincompoop? maybe one candlemas this poem will get married or maybe it's gay - also legal nowadays & maybe it'll burn young or outlive the sun so good luck little wanker the beginning's just begun ...
resarf poetry 