Still as farmyards
The last day of august goes
Out like a vagrant
Holding her father’s torch
Smiling knowingly
Write what you know
they said
I don’t know much
I replied
Smiling knowingly
The day pans out
It’s vast
How tiny are we
Specks
Smiling knowingly
rustic plastic flower pots, empty seed boxes,
wanton rakes, shiny blue hoes, and general crap strew the garden,
frit chickens stand hushed for once:
parched crisp hollow
fennel, dayglo haywire, mile-a-minute bindweed, well-weathered crimson
strips of once useful wood, a yellow crate cum side table, the broken once
green now taupe plastic chair, a fat permissive raven,
and I conclude,
that little white passenger aircraft
looks very like an
aphid from where we sit,
lapping the last honey sun the portly
seggins assisted in the
making of this year
empty hour glasses
litter shattered livelihoods
dress rehearsing sighs
try not to laugh out loud much
as you’ve heard them all before
My homework ate the dog
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?
Cleaner, obscener, Greek God-like, romantic visionary gobshite, deified by self and mothers, receives less than enthusiastic response from beleaguered eejit trojan woman
Hoi polloi turn away sneering like Mutley at yet another abortive ruse by ludic evil genius to ground flighty, devious Columba
long slow road to equanimity stretches far ahead, distorted by sunstroke induced hallucinations, delusions of grandeur guaranteed by new toilet seat
obscured by cloud, the righteous dispute perceived flash promises of non-stop wall-to-wall sunshine on venture out
itchy feet pandemic induces potassium permanganate price hike on world markets, espadrilles nationalized in Atlantis
huge wave of despair sweeps over low self esteemers—
what is the incidence of Alopecia in Appalachia?
Dorset five held indefinitely by Etruscan potwallopers, Foreign Office remain vigilant. Time is of the essence.
Is there something wrong with everything, a flaw, a rift, a fissure, the meerest hairline fracture inbuilt obsolescence has a lot to answer for; so, later today dangling precariously upside down by the ankle attached to a withered yellow rubber band I will venture to examine various suspect roof tiles If I have the time Or indeed the inclination
Sphincter the catnip died in nineteen sixty-nine what was the other one called? Ernie the Mouser he died too the myths play at will you grow attached with glue crustaceans of rock limpet, mollusc, squid theodolite, arbitrage scuttling about the old gaffe seeking a whale of a time licking up spilt milk not worth crying over now baby blue
French polish windows,
Pathetique ripples tickle
sweetening even air,
far off a yelp, a rustle of
rushing crinoline,
a dalliance commences,
to conclude by glow worm light come dusk,
entangled in briar on damp mosses
under elephant sized zucchini.
~
Alternatively, welsh rarebit
on toasted brioche
with chives and wildebeest,
served with lashings of green tea and
Pontefract binlids, while
galoshing through seas of watercress
and camphorated hankies.
Crack! Crushed a sequin
Silver sequin embedded
Moonlight blue table cloth
Blew a dream to smithereens
Heavy handed oafish clot
Butterflies crushed on cartwheels
Like Wilfred Hyde Whyte
With a sledgehammer
Rain is in the air
Harpsichordal fugue
Will it or won’t it
Joni light an open fire
There’s a nasty chesty cough
Pneumoconios is it
Blue black scar tissue
Dirty fingernails
Bathful of coaldust
Red carbolic soap
Flat as a pancake
Spider hanging by a thread
Slew an open fire
Red double dragon struggles
Tying up laces
spittoon Sospan fach
Grimbeau 