Tag: Angela Carter

Feather Bucket



He’s still there waving & grinning

and wish as hard as I can it remains

Shorty – the ghoulish clown:

giant daisy in a crimson bowler,

mouth like a  lewd, purple inner tube.

Striped, hoola-hoop held pantaloons

hanging off Moorish orange braces

glowing lime green socks

in burnt brown boots.

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Ill again, fingers
Burnt by silvered sun
Nothing much to say
Wizard notions complicate
The simplicity of food



Black as night at five

as I rose and chose a coffee

from the selection of available liquids.

With this I had a cigarette, which I made myself:

harvesting, drying, processing leaf,

making paper in a big blue pail,

extracting gas from my bio mass.

An exhaustive process

often interrupted by the need

to release toxic waste from the corpus.


On arrival upstairs in my lift

the day was revealed as misty

and the streets sweat wet.

I dropped my lighter on the floor and left it,

vowing to retrieve it later

with my extended manual claw.

A cursory take on the news

clarified the extent of yesterday’s huge explosion in China.

Jim Al Kalili showed me around Sellafield

nuclear reprocessing plant and availed me of a

brief history of nuclear energy.

He looks very like a frog.

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