Moses, Moses, holy Moses!
A turn up for the books.
Four quick glances
an element of surprise.
An intriguing risk demonised.
I think of you all the time, she said.
Puking in her handbag.
That’s some love poem
~
My eyes are clouded over with self-deceit,
these words are redolent of feet
that walked proud as punch,
no more for now,
no more,
the crunch
Perhaps the radio can see
who the ocean has reclaimed
this gusty Sunday
Less a numbers game
than prurient derision
Smug as a bug on a drug
Neon hordes festoon seasides
Find macabre pokemon
Washed up after sated fish
Gold, silver and bronzed
Load up on food for thought
Leftovers after feeding frenzies
Fake it as it comes
Feel no love for humankind
Only mild revulsion
Jockeying for possession
Give me a groat and I’ll emote on hope and faith, and craic
Should you not meet me on the way, you can on the way back
From hollow land and silly land, to form and sound, and black
The song you hear will be our own and never will shirk or jack
Too good to be true, too simple to work, you say inside your head
That tapping on the roof you hear, is rhapsody robbing the lead.
Well we are where we are at
My fellow desperados
Not a penny to our names
Parchment skein turning yellow
Instant beatification
Atomic & unclear age
Much in need of renewal
Thunderbirds are gone
Message reads:
Au revoir Mes Enfants
Sensible brown shoes
Contemplate retirement
Live now pay later
It’s a wonderful lifeboat
Gigantic white horses
Full force gale blows crazy
Fisherman lost all at sea
~
blue murder is an option
vaguer notions involve plenty
mississippi mud pie
sanguinity & toast
underwater table tennis
constitutes just one
ding that springs to mind
also: mend s l o w puncture
~
synchronized slumming it
keeps the blighters off the streets
after pilates & fries
fleas and mice of the Caribbean
Prance in light elastic pumps
or bristle with shaven ravens
tipping away at venality
between long wet slogs
through warm soft tissue
then we all fall round gurgling
gambolling precociously with
lamb’s toothy daughter
Caroline of Brunswick
Who breaks into a piggy bank
& scoffs the Hottentot of it
~
Moanwhile…
Up shat creak without a Piddle
Wherein which we whet the wall
A chemical imbalance
In the Fred Astaire’s of men
My Lord is a ram jam toerag
Supinating pimply puss pot
Leaving droppings on the pantry floor
~
No wriggle room here to let to
Blackdog Irish ne’erdowells
So when in Go do as the Gonads
Spread a little body mass
As you doze on cheese on toast
The everso dumbed down games
Rumble to a disclosure
lack of twinkly anoraks
Thubron & Thubron Ltd
Quality prophylactics
To the monarchy
Since last I could be arsed
how’s the old voice sounding these days—
seems like ages since wanton
plaintive baritones pained
airwaves crooning broken trysts
confessing craven intrigues
hawking well odd blatant symbols
parody and downright awful yells—
when is the new album coming out
some say the best month is May
when hopes grow lofty
and memories listless
curious to see who made it through tonight
Quite like Eliot’s Hollow Men
I
neither impressed nor depressed just pressed
II
Psst (confidence follows):
a giant ravenous fly eschews flesh
an impecunious hero
it’s yellow
leaves it clear
up to future generations
III
Heads full of straw, or, as the wiseacre put it:
“Full of shit and twigs”
How I laughed out loud when that first I heard
“…nobody does it sweater
makes me feel sad for the vest”
sad when sequels disappoint
that’s why you have them
like sloppy seconds
All near misses
Bashful kisses
Meet the missus
How’s your father?
Have a lager
Enchilada
Mexicana?
Tijuana
Marijuana?
How’s your karma
Panorama
Rusticana
Croft on Orkney
Me and Daphne
Up a gum tree
Sad conclusion
Dead illusion
Dissolution
Grimbeau 