Category: Magic Realism




Purple sloping Wonderfield

Bog cattle hugging below

Sat like the statue thinking

Halfway up on a blasted stump

Beneath a humming pylon

Beside a scruffy gorse

Sits a painted horse

Myrtle twizzling track

Made respectable by

Tarmac and white strips

Desiccated coconut flakes

Magnolia and cherry blossom

Windblown dusting cows snouts

Makes them shuffle, snort in concert

Painted horse sneezes along aloof




a face full of kites & whites

all plot lost to angst

Sorted out my window sill

Nothings mission crept

anguish swept away substance

stupid hat cant rant

House of Teeth beneath

The North face of The Ogre!

Daily melanoma gobshites

West of Eden seething:

bleeding all the way to the tank…


day dawns grey pink crazy haze

dream genie quits bird for bottle

torpid rush hour to Squit City.

slow sleepy jet trails backward.

Solitary blackbird yawns

when you have read this

check top of head for gaps


You just did a pome


Better luck next time

Crisis Cohort



Easter Sunday so they say;
a new motherhood knits her brow

they sit apart together
to confirm the obvious concerns abroad;

I love you from a sadly from a distance
to protect the children from the plague.

Are we not all just little boats
thinks a nosey child concealed

out of sight in the shadows
Real eyeballs meet for the first time in ages.

Nothing exciting will she say
fobbing off the nosey questions

with a secret sign

So who on earth was it who eavesdropped us
hidden close by out of view.
There was considerable footage
on the security cams

here a dazzling sunlight plays a part
the mounting brackets will may
play a part yet in determining
the conclusion of this tribulation
a trial which may make use of this account at will…
if this lockdown never ends…

Sunny Day…(Who do i write for? Why…for You)




Went up

—new PopE




A funny thing happened the other day, but I missed it.
Troy fell again

it appears
It barely got a mention
With all that was going on
Round here
What with the weather changing

The permanent fishy smell
The limping gormless misfit

As a ballerina in transition
from one side to other there is one question
I get asked above all others
And that is
‘Have you met with much resistance?

I can say hand on heart
‘Little’ without fearful contradiction
But I care not a jot in my summer frock
Running amok
fetching Apricock

small flying things

observe him shuffling in the morning sun in t-shirt and fag pocked boxers, shambling about in a battered panama feeling better he says

half and hour’s worth of washing up and hoovering upstairs and a break before a shower and some evening sunshine if it stays he says

looking at old doodles in notebooks full of portraits of despair and dishonesty it was much worse than words could ever in themselves he says

renascent caesarean section moment of involuntary entry into a world full of priests overheard from the womb giving up last unction he says

orphans fear having orphans eggs the holy man would tell us and that kissing made you pregnant before marriage but never tell a soul he says

the sound of that wry dry chuckle was common in ancient Mesopotania when sex went on for six days and six nights without a sign of slowing down he says

strand long empty strand giant crisp bag onrush don’t push me coz I’m close to the hedge down by the river endorphine surge of reveries to come he says


Ploughed Cuckoo Land

every morning while I’m
jumping up and down
I scream out names of
those I wish good luck to.
do any of them happen to live with me,
in the same flat, house, bijou hovel
the same shanty town,
sewer, shop doorway, aqueduct,
inflammable dirigible, barbed wire mosspot,
slice they cucumber, lick they icicles…?
Or is it someone who aint got up,
left their shit bang smack in your way,
left the bog seat up, snores like a drain in the gutter,
had their cake & ate it intravenously,
talks endless pompous psychobabble…
How very surprising.

time for press-Ups & A
Jog to old Sarky-Poohs for pot noodle, aphrodisiac,
and jellied eels on blancmange before a
long day at the orifice counting ducks…


Ambrige Analytica

Found ruminating
over moist Golgotha cud:
infrequent query bugs
hurry up
get on with it….


Is your ending really my beginning ?
For how could it not be so-

by the way of things –
How’s that old doggo dada of yorn?

Dead as dogged dogmeat doubtless
Licking up pillaged
pulverised muskrat inches
under true blue shrewd weather

How’s mine going, is she there yet?

Is she the one over there
Over there by the trough
Sneaking a quiet one
Legs crossed in the corner
on a woodbine ?

Yes. Same as it ever was
Smoking woodies in a boob tube,
pigeon chested to the waist
sorbing robust summer sun,
short sleeved designer pastel shirt
open gaily to the waist,
walking staccato now
stumbling about on buggered feet,
thinking what god knew
once upon a time.

Buddha-like inscrutable is the Buddha.
Head full of blinding anguish
Aloof crude wonky dreams

Suchlike stuff filled Leaf’s
Numbskull & embossed bones
creeping steep sunken garden
late Good Friday afternoon,
as she with auric brass neck
& hard shoulderpads;
sharkfest eyes bloodshot
after catch-up daytime sleep
after a bad night twice remembered
that kept her up three days
killing time with gimmicky
zombir horror films,
relishing copious rot lurid
cartoon blood oozing from every pixel,
made aware of skull cap thinning
a wildly, itchy unkempt
beard of cheesewire, a wretched
sight altogether to behold.


Neon lights down south prevent
naked dripping quills lament
bloated heavy vaper trails sing
pregnant lullablies brew ginseng,
(self-harmless charades, stone deafening elective boredom,
loose lipped mouthy toothless , upbraid misogynist gays)

manky moles crudely startle                                                                                                        lazy worms like
old man Moses rotting down                                                                                                        nice now deep down deep downsouth
GHQ sarcophagus, semi-detached suburb of the dead                                                                                                      rhubarb-rhubarb  breadcrumb trail                                                                                          leads nowhere much hairy arsed once proud)                                                commanding views of turd strewn lawn,
abandoned taupe recliner, dog seeks receivership
dissimilar to previous for no transparent treason
he can bear to think of…Nice!

made history poverty overnight
gentle martial arts of war—
set scrimmages & slings
threw babies out with bathwater
pondered wood ploughshare tundras
jam packed prairies full of goats

undistinguished tree gods shag—
watch the weald churned upside down
cleaved a gurt big hole in Kent—


Shinbone Stars

Watch a million unique
selling points scintillate
trans-Siberian firmament
watch imaginary westerns
Liberty Valance waits nice
On table nicely whips cream
Serves up double apple pie
snarls ‘have a nice day, y’all’
storms out in a huff
Pilgrim guns him down in cold blood
Saloon doors burst wide open
Mickey Mouse sweats cobs
Buffs up twinkly shot glasses
Pompey reveals his bad side
Cardsharps brandish braces
Twizzle chintzy swordstick canes
A dwarf turns up just in time
They take a breathless selfie
Hastily swops black hats for white
Melts back into background noise
Frere Lubin & his Myrmidon boys
Make free with croquelardon
Fake news is all says Shinbone Star
Southside of the Picket Line

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