Quidnuncs flaidh cheoil:
how’s your ole terror feyther?
Still on the run in Spain?
And your mother, don’t you love her,
the twisted sister of Cain.
And you, you monster,
a towering babble of lardo
thinking we’re lesser devos,
are you well in this world,
did you churl of curling
or gainsay Brian Boru?
Her feeble
Patience
exhausted if
Glenn Ulf & the Moon Brethren
who tampered with
the Relic
Sock.
~
Dismayed
but unruffled
went she
stepping
gingerly
~
on skin
& snow
flakes,
& found
oxygen
consoles
her soul
cruet of heaven,
crooning grace
‘…need me till I want no more.’
Bliss
after Evensong
she
reposed
immersed in
quilted peachy luxus
idly flicking through
‘Lego, Fretwork,
and
Micky Mouse Ballrooms’
edited by
Blitz Furls,
Fred McGod,
and Paul de Koch
Exhausted by the dumping I stole away
aboard the Lardy Cake for far distant
shores of Nark, where bumble bees put their feet
up after a hard day’s humming &
talking twaddle is a hanging offence…
