( autumn isn’t spring )

~

( autumn isn’t spring ) ( gnirps t’nsi nmutua )

cuckoos sleep in their clocks

& in their cloudy land

      the daffodils are noted

      only by their absence

as the air is crisping

like a baked potato skin

      – hark, a parsnip parps

      ‘pon a brassy breeze

blast the phantom gas

moss is green – not grass

      babylon is fucked again

      up the arse ‘n’ all sorts

atlantis gargles

arthur snores on avalon

      – doors, doors, doors

      & all with creaky hinges

the days are getting dimmer

like a dyslexic meal

      toadstools croak

      & spawn – not toads

nights are creeping in – not out

with no hokey pokey

      to shake it all about

      – only foggy ghosts