You remember Gonks: foam stuffed cabbage patch dolls born of an oil crisis; Mister Mennish in a way; eminently home-makeable – scissors, clear glue, felts of varied hues & farbs – you got your Gonk! Mine was called Paulus,
after a little gnome who welcomed
all and sundry
to his home.
My Personal Paulus disintegrated
after a vigorous thrashing
in our twin tub.
It always had
a masochistic streak…
Windows windows,
looking inward looking out,
they do not do up and down no more
Could if they had necks,
or long hands and periscopes.
If they were so fortunate,
and with the CCTV linked to the telly
But,
that is not the same as a neck of your own to play with…
Inner scented oriental mood,
smartly shoed,
sucking on a Zube,
watching chicks insinuate.
It is now.
Can you imagine
how good that is?
Go on
Then!
~
You are smoking
Casually
Smoking?
On a street corner in the fifties.
You are wearing a hat.
It is a busy street.
High rise buildings.
People. A city. Night. Warm. Promising.
Am I right?
~
Fancy an omelet
I do.
Fresh green salad.
Sounds good.
Let’s go.
what the heck let’s go again at the witterings good work out for the digiits if nothing else.
Cut those nails, Howard Hughes. I implore you. Simply.
we got two zero one nine big time fult tilt bullshit flying oppressive radio waves goodbye to reason
is Prokofiev taking the piss saying look ma no hands to the conservatory
burning leaves with his true love
bitter sweet body of work to discomfort you in you dotage
afflict ME NOT mockery
workyshy violets WITTER
no MORE milk today OK
so she say he say hearsay heresy of a heartfelt howl
I must turn way
disregard
Instead…
& was it my luck to find this:
rave on Thom Gunn
serpentine dawn in fifty six
winkle pickled drainpipe ghost
rave on wine gravy shun
we say no-no Missus Minniver
& Walter Pidgeon pipe
off to California
undercover of the night
Grimbeau 