Wild notes:
A bit of a whopper!
Had to get these down before I got stuck
cheroooted to the table.
Thanks to Danny Baker.
Warmed my butt and sacrum
with the oat and lavender bags
flicked through the morning stations for
distraction,
inspiration,
information –
in short, company.
Other voices.
Came across the Danny Baker Show,
a show I like and always forget to listen to
I am so bogged down in my listening ways.
The item was about Greenland’s timezone-less centre;
how they called it Greenland because Vikings
wanted to deter invaders from their cherished Iceland;
another item mentioned ‘thundersnow’
and I was away. Up for it, writing came first
and I made some jots:
These are they.
Saturday mornings Punk Odyssey
Drongo pomes dialogue.
The Vanmitzvah;
little feral red van
becomes
big red van/bus does
not stop at my gate.
Passed by a boy: came back a man.
Returned, emerged.
Apple in a football ground.
Thundersnow on a lowlight
There we are.
Banged one out, as they say;
never mind who. They do.
Whomsoever this they is.
I do not know…
She fibbed.
And she knew that I knew too.
If you want to find out, like I do, call her at:
Pennsylvania 65000.
I can’t get through.
The reception is dreadful
in this carriage.
Perhaps I’ll try the caboose
after luncheon.
That sweet Blossom, Tearsday,
loved all things
Petunia,
Luxuriating
there whenever Chance permitted.
Chance was a creature of habit,
smiled on Tearsday three times
on Thursday mornings
between Shipping Forecasts.
Gerald the Burn-Out
dwelt in anti-cyclones,
and traipsed in murk and squall.
A most unlikely couple: Which they weren’t.