Herring aid skippers quell a smell
A Wounded woodpigeon pukes and revives.
Cream soured Tom Tits choke on the bits
Swifts scoop up gherkin shards and stiff plummet.
Seems about time to sweep up the back yard
Alternatively, build a giant rat trap.
World Service Station: 14.30.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
What’s so empty
about human concern
in a well-heeled brogue?
Ummm…thinks!
Ox famine aint it
awfulness oozes
Seeing a Roedean girl
gang-banged by
A Droog Militia who
snigger snidely.
Gymkharma ponies
crash demented
Against freeway barriers.
Pulsars of horse blood
pepper windscreens
Eye blink wipers
flick them away
As quick as a
pest in the Kasbah.
Opiate wood earth
brunette even glass,
leaf plumes.
Rain insists easy as
heavy tears of Mayo.
A Cuspid day
Fangs a lot.
Frond reaping:
marking out the autumn field
for fallow deer and rabid ox…
-Windows shut?
-Yea…yes: Clunk.
Smoke and mirrors.
A soft, lilac world
turns turtle purple:
Tempes Fuchsia
Grimbeau 