Angelus tinkles

watery ivory echo

dove limps

l o w

over paddy fields


Coolies  fuss duck

cussers murmur

mud suck squelch slop pop


c r o w

l a u gh t e r


Whiffy noodle soup

spoon sniff  juice



p o a c h ed

c  o c  k-a-l e e k i e

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Offspring Hatstand



What will Monday bring?
Screaming abdabs in my pants


Tinkerbell was furious
Cursed her lucky star & turned over to seethe
‘We are sorry to hear
of your miserable existence
and insist you contact a higher authority—
Yours Faithfully, Walt’

Talk to Mickey Mouse himself,
Up close and personal
There might be something doing
Perhaps a letter, a formal request
To talk it over, chew the cud
About the good old days

Before animation came to a sticky one
Stole away our childhood anarchy
privatised collective conchshellnes
Personified Vietnam a glitch
Seen Through GI Gilmore’s peepers
In the Jungle Book of Life

Apocalypse Now & again builds zilch!
Was justice a matter of time
After masque pastiche, rehash
Hanging out dirty washing
Computer generated egos
Optical soma catatonics


bLack Monday sods all
comers peering through the murk
waiting ante post—
traumatic stress disorder decides
on own chosen course
indigence proceeds apace
regular beatings infrequent due to staff deficiencies·
still there’s always clear and present danger to fall back on
when all else has failed·
industrial action once promised never threatens





Mutual micturition
& Adrian Mitchell on the wireless
Let’s let bygones be bygones
Bury the haggis
After all is said and done
It’s just water under the fridge
Were you just taking the piss
When you asked me why
the box of frogs I promised
was not for keeps just swops?
Mutually unsure destruction
Is not what it’s cracked up to be

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Jump the Broom



The Phoney War on Slapstick Ends…
Times like this began with General Approval in deep hotchpotch jaw-jaw back of Nico’s bar and grill traducing clam-baked mongrel hoc polloi
‘Better late than never’, sighed swan necked Frieda Sluggish flicking though a growing stack of IOU’s and billet doux. Silhouetted against the bleak midwinter skyline it all appeared quite plausible to steady bogus Chad, whose tab fetish was the talk of the mobsters.
‘Flower sales sank to an all-time low—O’Bannion’s gotta magpie coming his way if things do not pick up by Valentine’s’, said Dom in matching ball gown and crozier.
Hosiery was ever a cut-throat trade; less a game of football and more a matter of life and debt. Smart plague dogs knew that much as they did their rounds of the loose limbed irons that littered the sidewalks of Prague
‘This place reeks of optimism—check out the Assassin’s Diary for March & see if they’re fully booked for The Ides’, said Bonzo to Gnasher, who never questioned hors d’oeuvre or any spare morsel going
Simultaneously elsewhere times were changing too. Perhaps Slow-Slow-Quick-Quick-Slow was the way of it after all…
If evidence were necessary the characters froze halfway through what they were doing next and the room filled with a vatic silence, which you must find uneery. Indeed the rumpus next door in the greenhouse made it all but impossible to focus at all. Our friends remained unmoved showing no a flicker of awareness.
Time it seemed was indeed up. Keys echoed in the corridor. They had a life of their own as well.

Daphne legs it Sharpo




Hush sshwept clean fresh brush aside  cum summit stalks— made history well history; how phew light years tearswell  up as nowcently· crookery nook handshook up a well bent gee gnome

Lamasery shrub gourds fetch mad tricorn branchlines con left blue eye, sprink cosmetico silver outliner pindrip, touch jet black jack skellington taboo; soul rescued rondo fallen tree gnome

Pong from gnome splat leafy tartarus; greebo grunt hoed slug path smudge clingy soddoss ape yuck; tory uppy calendula snakesteam gorgons seep pale lightless green as kidsnot  jest plane gnome

herding east on sum yums shunset; big black birdiess sweep up behind the trapeze awe soma kinda flushdump rafter gardenspoiler done up; enacted  twilight morning cum torpor gnome

twixt vexed cringes syringes and plasma money jabs pimple oohs and ah-ahsoles. Dreamboaterer droopy wily doldrum torp grooms up day wit awe struck long lost cod almighty gnome

Po—u—idyll— tong-—yinnies!




As constellated

Jason and the Argonauts

pay their usual


Xmas visit.

The dog will not drop the stick.

Perhaps upstairs

is the best

Place for me just now.

Either that or a

cross country run in slippers

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Circles: Early Doors






you move in

move in you

move in me

Can you

see your circles

move in me?


nor can


We are



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fecund isotope



Dawn skyline silhouette
Centrefold cardboard pop up
charcoal rooftops part
Exposing awesome schism
Giant rocket gone to seed
Oversees gurt grey divide
Totem hides taboo
Purple sprouting broccoli
Also springs to mind
Thing and winnowy
Long bolemic pins
Dangle down half-heartedly
Look stronger than this close up

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donned wrong slippers two lefts no right (man cannot compete with the gods) shines not the light of openness, hark the herald angels sigh

open the box of trad vibrations lost the lid in the mad rush, the crush of expectation, paradigms hide agendas under pretty paper

tribal elders sip cold beers and reminisce about the circumstances that nurtured the hair brained to utter in the first place

continue reverse shift key from bad to sad greeks bearing gifts of twinkly stars every time we said good bye until the last

perversely mixed with liguini fritters & hidden malice the garotting takes on a new light glory to the new born thing

Holly & Ivy



Took some zippo

liquidated sound seven:

abstracted coffee

come eight.

Walked allover his

wild side

utilitarian fine tooth

soma left: no burn unsalted.

declined shattered sunflower

She said

Holly’s late

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A View from the Fridge



Watch the ersatz light

Reflecting starboard

Honour bound to succour

Day becoming night

Faff with naff gadgets

Eschewing tuna mayo

Dreaming high seas calabrese

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Farmer Jones


Charming orange runes

Amaryllis niceties

Bent over backwards

To please the undeserving

Chasing shadows constantly

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Approaching Capricorn



Dark December days

Half-Six is the new midnight

Feel submission creep

Torpid longshore drifting by

Dull indolent dynamic

Go light a candle

White wax lyrical yellow

Life enhancing sun

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Grumblin’ Jock Spruce considers…



matters of style and technique, approaches, points of view and sacred, boxed in genre put me right
first thing in the morning. Most days listen for a convenient excuse to be deterred and wonder why you feel desperate and frustrated!
Last night was the coldest of this year. All the vulnerable people are dead. Time for a new start— sounds harsh,
that’s the way the cookie crumbles when posh comes to shove. I look forward with rage to the slender frozen sea and contemplate the seasons
try not to be such a smartass playing with stolen uranium or Persephone will hang around for long, infertile weeks
dialogue is all you have in an oral culture, says the radio to itself and move on to what’s trending on social media
the Scriblerus Club convenes on the Mall for its Festive knees-up and annual not much to report but Grenfell now

On Terra Firma



Three o’clock round up

Slug slime wakes smear shadow crooks

criss-cross flat parsley bush

Two stroke mosquitoes falter

Visible winds splutter ugly truths

Stoptember warnings ignored

Malice once a far thought

landgrabs Terra incognito


It was said she perished strapped

Inside a yearning building

Firebranded radicals

Did their very best

Sent cucumber sandwiches

waved pomegranate petards

Malice once a far thought

On terra firma takes root


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Midnight Lamp


Midnight Lamp

you can’t turn it on

and off like a water tap

or light switch can you

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Nip & Tuck

Flute bore Marsyas got
skinned alive by lyre plucking Apollo
after coming second in winner takes all musical combat
Fellow demi-gods
make tears so copious a river
sprouts which still bears his name today.
He had been warned off sternly
Roudly thrashed by pouty Minerva
could not let accursed instrument alone.
He had been warned off by Apollo too but sped long headstrong enchanted to his fate:
serial hubris—merciless nemesis.
A macabre tale of divine brutality. The jury is rigged
Marsyas’ reputation faired much better in Rome
Some say…on the quiet

blue rumours


~ spook sure discombobulate, sheet white Joe Tin lopes egg shell wary these days, once this  rookie journeyman peels opens shed door flaps, flour waves sprinkle fond farewellies to all that’s powder

~ crystal ghost ships croak wretched raspers, gurgling clover bloated wind smote sheep disgrace abrasive grassland, all accomplished under wheezing smiles oxygen assisted daybreak yields pink linctus…

~measure by measure spondules droop, eyelids refuse to blink, can openers duck issues, a smoking bun is found malingering by the oildrums, Cheeseman overegged the custard slices just for old times sake

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coughed a cough someone could hear
grabbed and kissed the solid air,
looked into the Frigidaire,
and put away the butter.

folded up his underwear,
placed them neatly on a chair,
washed his ears, his nose, his stare,
and pulled of his pyjamas

felt the need to disappear,
not another fucking year,
like the last yet more severe,
once they had a future.

was a thought that got too near,
pledge to not give in to fear,
get the fuck right out of here,
find a warmer climate

is just the time of year,
that makes you cry into your beer,
put a candle in your ear
and bake you own Alaska.


Cabbage Patch Blues



Mud is the median

Of dearth and flood

In this Garden of

Earthly Detritus.

The Luisenpark  Park:

little old boys playing

giant chess under obsolete

scarlet pergola

Right next to the practical

Functional, punctual Imbiss,

Come ride the lurid

primrose chain drawn rowboats

Judder and jerk through the claggy,

pissed off captive flamingos huddled on

a muddy spit

shivering under bleak gaze


Resignation to the cold war grey

telecom tower.

It scares proud erect,

savoy green voluptuaries

flourish about the subterranean root

The rest is waste. A weedy, rotting hinterland

of winter ruin and neglect. As I wince a

black plastic sheet sneers at my disdain.

I lean defiant on the fork,

earth yields to the fronds.

Resistance assumes novel

steadfast lopsided defiance.

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The Dread Aftermath of Naked Gambolling



yet another



a diddle-dee-dum day

a sufficiency of sun day

a my god what have I done day;


red raw

Bum Day

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Primeval eel forest
6.37 alarum triumph
Gordon ‘Call me Benito, Hen’ Bennett-Brown weighs in
Visigoth horse shoe archways Theodoric runs yer legs orf
State of mind yer own: damp fractal legume lizard
Crocodillo east of lavalamp
Splodgerama yucca (New windOw doOdle) HOots munn…stir
(dere he goes again with the siLly wOtsits)
Yes, yEs, yeS dear Butt, but…he writes, he breathes, he lives.
Loopy Lazarus
elides horseshoe archways…
Doodle, doodle,
Johnnie ‘Jack’ daw.
Do not get
out of your depth;
wade in over your head –
looky, look ye yonder swell
Wavy canopy.
Shimmers wrong way up
Lean back and you float fall
everso slow feet
fall up head fall back.
Undead man’s float.
Nose down in wet grass.
lazy crazy dive.
Burial at See –
last willy and teste
(contested). Chop me
up and feed me to
the fishy wishies,
trays of crushed ice
(Rose of Casteel),
like wedding cake,
post a piece to friends
and family, wrapped up in
tri-ply kitchen towel to
sorb up the oozings…
whiff of ‘Goobyee
cruella werld’ innit, sour
grapes, bitterness,
distemper tantrumS




                                                                   Ophelia seethes stallion temperatures reach levels just plain unacceptable for mid-Julys when calendars roamed the earth—pregnant with rampant satyr—tiny pitta patter of cloven hooves stirring the cauldron pot—rupture fakes junk tradition like salmon mimic poodles
Winsome day stares, lysine satyrs make hay fore smoothies some crushed thing feels velvet ice, starfruit guilt on lanoline, fevers deliver us from antiseptic chores, come five it should be done and dusted for the heirophant
Whose runestones sully my chemise? The permanence of outrage conceals mendacious logic. Watch dust settle fast like loopy gifs. I picked up pretending I was stoical like soggy tapioca blinds. Strange these thoughts of red meat, fish and fratricide, playing on my lyre
Rinsing dishes salves scene three: just bear in mind the tea towels conspire like mathematicians in seemingly random numbers, that’s when the claxon insists on sacrificial offerings of three day old goat’s milk sorbet and bluebells

Tom Fool’s Blues



Who put the clocks out?

eight minutes to four

undersleeping is lethal

April foolishness

or was it Blue Leicester cheese

or Port Talbot Steelworks

Back to bed with you!


summoned by canine smells

green poetics

Which is it to be today

Pranksta or Gangsta?

Always read between the lines


unlike You the truth

is never plain nor simple

You know who you are

capitalism eats itself

corrupted algorithm

no one takes the rap

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evolution postponed but a brief while

door slam shut out pantomime

stop traffic bigstink jamboreen                                                                                                                                              politics of sustenance                                                                                                                            sufficient unto the day-o

in place of fear itself: fear of fear of violence                                                                                                            lovers lie bleeding snoring

pawing it on thick as creasote, sticky fingers cloy                                                                                                   uglying soft sweet hotspots                                                                                                                    petrified forget-me-knots

tombs immemorial litter car park wheelie bins                                                                                                       full of spice and quick sloe gin

Gone Fishin’


Wistful, windless, desultory:

frugal, fawn, beige, puce _

Elvis has left the building

Pulling a fast one again


Half-six on the dot:

doors slam, off to the coast,

Bodies glide on the high tide,

rolling away to chilling gyres


tussles and rubs

from jetsam and kelp,

nibbled by gulls

eschewed by sussed brill


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When gargantuan

Exquisite imaginations

Once went to work on

A polythene egg

In a bubble car

There was a big bang

The rest is pre-history

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Soft Bramble



Octoplasm gruel, eternal gloop,

stodging things up, malingering till good

night calls:


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Old Bar Stewards


Albert Einstein sticks his tongue out to photographers in 1951

Music soothes the savage breast.

Death Metal springs to mind.

Put on your rusty chain mail vest.

Go find an axe to grind.

Roaring to the chemist

On your zimmer frame

The traffic cops then did you

For pissing in a drain

Fined or sent to prison

Condemned to spend your time

Moaning at the bus stop

It never leaves on time.

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Wiggle Room



as chance would have it
thick tar cable does
the job of a horizon, shut your
left eye everso tight

and you

can frame
it all in just one go

elongated myopic oblong
careful to include twigs
close attention to detail-
bare rowan twigs,
fragile faith in the lawn

of unforeseen consequences

mildew gilded boughs,
enlightenment infant sun,
bronzed and crystal clear.
The winter berries perished
in the spring storms,
rats got eaten up

by cold-hearted old stock doves,
or washed down weedy culverts
flapping about yelling in vain
like sink spiders floundering
in numinous U-bends
under sinks
all over the unknowable

View original post

Harlekan Tears


The noose was too loose; the trap door stuck.
‘Lydia Steptoe, you are, by dint of serendipity, free to roam the earth, jejune and fancy free’
The voice removed the sack. It was Mr Kipling.
‘James Hayter?’
‘None other’ said James Hayter, glowing with avuncular warmth
‘Are you pulling my leg?’ said Lydia.
‘No, dear lady. The rules are clear as almond slices. Now off you trot, and sorry for the cock-up.’
Hayter doffed his manky indigo topper and indicated the door marked ‘Exit’
The lights went orange. The cluster of onlookers began to hop on their right legs. Lydia stepped down from the rickety scaffold and scuttled toward the door. Before pushing the bar she turned
‘For what was I condemned to hang, James Hayter?’
‘Wasting court time with mediocre card tricks’
‘Seems a bit harsh’, she thought nodding mock penitence

Outside it was dark. The cathedral bell…

View original post 942 more words


Eight six five crackles
Hot charcoal stumps spit fire
Occasional scowls
Just about sums it all up
Must have slipped away last night

Morph Up

when bodies change by
factories beyond control
Lucky Generals
Get off Scot Free with Murdo
Turdrum, outcome tax
Doomsday bookies may snigger
Cool bulging obese hipsters

smoothies (mind-mop)



…fall Rain strawberry Rainbow
Midsummery night dream Fruitcup
blitz UP strawberry moon juice nice
drenches tense empurlpled Wrenches
spring’s offensive flourish nascent lulls
leaves droop drip tremble crepid–
such things  I saw in

a certain cure for summer flood

oil on wrinkly water

The Pelican’s rigged
moored up gangplank quakers
smooth & clipped & trimmed:

Larboard leans a dandy cove

barbered, oiled, manicured, pinked
crimped dripping trinkets whistling

Lydia, Oh Lydia! You Encyclopedia

rippled woollen topiary
A king size poodle shivers-
Freshly cropped powder monkeys,
by the
same name:

(plaintive howl, stones-throw yelp on bubbly shoreline, middle-distant sprinter spurts)

Pristine crimson one piece suit flashed jagged:

Past green orange writhing blip




Cyril Sloth ate all

through the tempest

spanking the panes,

whipping the shrubs,

wiping the eyes of

Sussex and Cypress

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The Enigma Mode:


2 66 15.jpg

Self pitied Plumbers

do not find



when your trousers


the chips


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Morseless rain all morning,

Steady persistent, ruthless, insistent,

Yet sometimes relenting

snide off-pisser.


We Diggers curse this argent,

quick drip liquid,

call it a gluttonous mire hawker

(and sometimes worse)


Plangent noon sun stops play.

An early lunch and cribbage

Approaches from the West.

As Buddha flies over the cuckoo’s nest.

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Cloud cover.

giggle of spoon

on plate.

Dishing up dinner.

Smells sound

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wind rustles lilac

wind tickles leaves

wind slams door

wind will


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I flEd,

I saW;

I blundered…



(light bulb: thick cable)





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Sordid Moss Pots



Slipshod throwaway
Chewing gum sticks to soles
Performance inhibitor
Callous sabotage
Of what once was promising
Mobility cops the blame
Not incompetence
Completely lacking talent
Or application
Focussing on task before
Cart precedes the horse…
moan, loan,own epidemic
distracts captive audience
Compulsory fear & loathing
Turns the upside down
& the downside up
repugnant sticky fungus

World News Update



Culpability, imbalance, the dreaded lurgy stalks the porchway, the hamster hutch, the arboretum, and blunt spikes inbetween; night violates day with bags of murk and lovage

Indubitably, it calls itself Monday, brimful with sullen, clumsy passion worthy of a bread poultice infused with watery French mustard, limp alfalfa and toadstool

Tedium is just a damp blanket on a burnt out chip pan, a brisk riddling with formaldehyde never fails to yield staggering exultation at such junctures

Zoroaster caught herpes off a loathsome vet this day in nine sixty seven, the news when leaked by the skivvies, met with scant compassion

Axolotl harvest late due to line maintenance in the eucalyptus groves of transcendent Hobart-on-Sea

The best things in life are prohibitively expensive due to a series of botched algorithms, a perfect storm, and the bells of St Clement Danes

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Bomblast on commuter train
Preoccupied with crosswords
Said in spite seven letters
Eighteen down sixth letter P
Keep thinking contempt
But it doesn’t work unless
Intelligence is doubtful




Slice up the orange

segments on…

aluminium sink top

undulant altarpiece

Orange offering

A savant of the rite

wipes rustic

ludic breadknife

serrates thick zest

splices pith, quartiles

flesh in succulent




gum shields

skin & pith intact

snaffled up cutish

tense borne by bent paw

over caustic chasm

Sure chariot passes

Imperious, regal, sublime

Sedate above vile

sundry understuffs:

Abysmal  unmentionables,

Microbial, teeming rakes

Gyrating about the obscene floor

one of my heads in

bindweed, strangulating

taut shoelace gristle,

fleet heat seeking

missile, destination

amygdala sun spot

View original post

purgatory close



In a
venerable brogue
a warbler from  the threshold uttered:

‘Mornin has nine—Gingerman gone ’
‘No! not JP Dun Laorghaire?’
‘No! JP Donleavy’…

& so thus was made good a verbal contract
struck whilst missing a late night movie

made about the Kray Twins
to inform, educate & entertain
& fulfill the Charter of the Landed Pantisocracy—
Small sacrifice under such
circumstance methunks.
To leave one’s notes copious
abandoned to awake

irksome hostages
to outrageous misfortune
of Birthplace and/or origin                                                                                                     squander waking hours
reinforcing time out shifts
lost down purgatory close

A Funny Turn


Magnesium sulphate, Dear

To rouse you from the torpor?

Salt of Epsom Downs

Mined by horny-handed sons

Of merchant bankers

& dowager duchesses

On sabbatical

From badger baiting

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Theres a celibate sun
On the dry

Trim Jim!
Clip your beard
Am I being heared
Or merely weird

What the Funken Garden Said

Please, I compost you,
Enrych my life!

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Lay down and…



Don’t think of England

America’s dutiful poodle

Europe’s rescue dog

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Paigan Knees Up



Elusive killer bought red herring —swiping opening lines inspire one two twilight mockery—uptown slums drip dry quickest claims umbrella on landing—Fingal’s Cave harbours secrets of the deep—Magnificent Ambersons spotted in Vermouth: third man detained in custard pie—concentric glass bowls pull no punches—forty percent lead found in jump jockey—cross incontinents are best avoided, advise miffed valleys—all art is open late weekends—astonished spectator poleaxed by rogue feather—Maupassant? There’s more in the larder—dreamboats slide silent gravy — two knights rain drenched parley clears bad air — fish fly flags of convenience— jettisoned pipedreams mutter obscenities— label absurd ditties poppycock says spatula minor—have faith in feet or you fall—every step a trip denied—whippers into pidgin holies—miffed I could have muffed it— eye not found on ball—daisily in dark kept—didgeridoos at dawn it is— insist on satisfaction—get rum

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