micropoems crowd
scarred free blogs save our doleful
planet from gutter
unnecessary clutter
peagreen penknife trysts
slashed on old tree blogs
Eternally yours forelorn
Tina’s coming very soon
…so just dig it dorothy
swallow the yellow brick road
& forever remember
neutron stars sleep all day
recharging batteries then
scintillate all night
Endured cross stitch ups and venal stings,
incursive pine needles and lupins,
divisive thimbles and tumbrils,
concluded justice must be obscene to be undone
that finger food sucks at Funky Fiona’s,
regretted the futile fracas in Franco’s Head Shop,
and, at the heel of the hunt,
feeling flabberghastly
repeeled a grape for Delilah–
Yes the bummer’s done.
Now sat here the huge jukebox
affecting a timid demeanour
behind purple drapes
we, with blunted needles and bent pins,
darn socks for Sontag.
meek winds sing small ills: niffles snuffles niggles gripes Gene Wilder’s gone stone deaf dazzling daisies pomp no more turning leaves bonfire bright -must we go to grown up school this time every year?
Shut the craven door, put on the long sleeves…here it comes
Rouged erotic fall apples hang heavy in the sweaty orchard
Too often and falsely I have been told I am loyal, true and faithful,
Honest to a fault, capacious in my tolerance
Why let waste-wolves take their pick, leaving us wild boar
Cherish stray abandoned cryptic sirens
While rapine tyrants mocking strut their bawdy stuff, and raze ivory bone chapels
to cinders as innocence stands by looking on?
Untongue this serpentine insatiable ambition, stuff red hot pokers in it till it puffs
up like a hamster at the cud
Let that be an end to it for good, then retire us we shall to the bragging hall to winter in stories tall as giant pines and spruces
...you are not writing thus you are not a writer i am not writing thus i am not a writer -better quickly jot that down quick over there that paper scrap with spuds eggs, toilet rolls, dog food,crisps some forgotten shopping list or postmodern masterpiece what a bloody mess better get out the Hoover later there's nothing on the other side where's the pen? there, a pen, blue dried up biro, it might just work today. Increasingly violent circles- watch it, you'll rip it: A pencil! there behind the box of menthol vapes behind the burning candle careful, slowly does it that's how accidents occur i really must go to the loo. the dog wants to go out i can let him out and go downstairs, listen to the early morning news Shit! the clocks went back it's bloody Alan Bennett fetching in the milk i am not a writer…
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So, that was Black Friday: the first day of winter intimations, cool rain and mud. For the first time in months he breathed from his pelvis, his kidneys were in good cheer, and his bowels mirthful with the prospect of heavy stews and baked potatoes. ‘Spudfinger…ba-baa-ba; he’s the man, the man with the tuba touch’ […]
Mr Potato Head — The Avocado
sun after rain
steam shrouds leaf
stone wood dries
rot haze fades
fingers pause linger
tears fall smiling
continuum must
Entropy ain’t what it was
In the chokey oakum days
The greazy gabardine mack days
The sad brown paper bag days
The dainty doris day days
we were young at heart then
pistol whipping work horses
who toiled in broke up city streets
Hawking stucco frontispieces & smiley culture vulture daubs
You deny that people called Duck did once exist?
An oxygen experience is tough enough to get over.
Personally, I gained fuck all that I want in life no worries.
I am perfectly content in mind and bodybag
Indeed all the tension drops from my body
lukewarm and utterly butterly,
It’s as if I were sitting beside a friendly fire,
Well wrapped up in a crinkly blanket,
rocking gently back and forth.
Communication is unpleasant and unnecessary
Under the influence of oxygen,
You soon see no companionship at all is best
I accept myself and the world just as we are, separate
not begrudgingly,
but eagerly,
ecstatically even.
Wet coal tipples blanket bluffs,
Rusted out coal tipples
blanket breezy bluffs
Twisted track curls up
gnarly knotted toes
Industry was here
Once below a time
Declared unfit by Kilroy & Cadwallader
Grimbeau 