For thrift’s sake

we wear just one slipper at a time,

in continental shifts, diligently

observant of time zones,

ever-changing weather patterns, the jet stream,

solar winds, and the roaming holes in the

ozone and sole.


See the merman on the pushchair

huffing and grunting

like Puffing Billy, steam coming

from his nostrils

negotiating a three-point turn,

searching for the short term memory loss

that is a morning milk bottle. Splash!

It slips and spills some globs

on the floor and leg rash.

Not dropped though

so no need to cry.

Just grin and bear it:

get used to rancidness.

No rashers till you shower

Steam locomotive Puffing Billy in its eight wh...

when the care comes.

Candid Chimera

Indian Tepee, Kenora, Ontario.

Last Night of…

extreme dreams,

stark monochrome fluid,

freeway floral wallpaper,

rotting damasks, shillelagh,

almonds and formaldehyde.


White light, white sheet.

Jammin’ Jerusalem

Jute wailing bunnies.



exhausted from the lie-in:

cobalt clear still sky

flossed with high flying drifts,

orchestras of demi-gods trail

home spent.


We scavenge the tepee for beans,

celebrate love apples with libations of strong coffee,

and weep and fear for the band snakes,

Asian gators, and tigers on the fridge, hiding behind

the fabric conditioner, still ready to pounce on sleepy

Moorhen’s eggs.


Your runnin’ and

your runnin’ and

your runnin’ away

from yourself.


%d bloggers like this: