Tag: Food

Recipes for Disaster Broth



First turn upsides downside out inside out baby belladonna chili eyes

spliced broccoli main brace trunk squeezed sesame oil pressed down deep pan toast hard & fast

peel sweet field fedora mushroom saucers,

ignited seven noble stout courgettes, vine  tomato,

garlicky sticky sesame vestal virgin olive juices.

grass snake napalm jalapino agent orange turmeric roasted beef tomato

& pygmy pooka lime of zestful xenophone

quilted chorister jester converts handful hairy haricots inverts

afore ye go go go auld oche eye dai  cum noo scram jabberwok newt won ton



Stairwell to Paradise

All pills bulletin
Filthy crypto dawdles neath
Hazardous staircase
Awkward traverse to summit
Landing guarded by clutter
In the shower I crouch
A potbellied question mark
I anti-pasta rasta
Hairier than thou
Either me or this gut must go
green beans & brown rice
Matabele tea and toast
The clever money’s on the gut
Hope springs eternal
Skinless sausages in brine
The politics of cheesecake
Pressing issues of the day
Weigh heavily on my mind

Emma Euphoria

Emma stood blank in half-eight demi-light thinking causes for one shit up & two shits below: stale toast, ancient Camembert, fatty olives, decaying salad, egg & chips, late night salmon, oily roast root vegetables, midsummer nectarine, squashy pears, rich cream cheesecake, bottle of white wine, after eight mints, dirty glasses, yes, dirty glasses…

Dirty bedclothes full of stale flu-sweat, skin flakes, dandruff, and smokey house dust

Sink full of dirty dishes, greasy black hob, sticky fingers, slimy forboding corners, swampy miasma, fairy lights hanging from the dogroses.

Handel’s Water music strutted on the wireless. Which came first, thought Emma, the water or the fireworks? Was it linear or circular? Either way it was always the same old Handel. How very reassuring. Not.

The last two weeks had oozed bad news.

Radio daze…

No post or  calls? Not yet. Have a think. Check your incoming. Read about writing. Perhaps more radio. Tidy the kitchen. Why me? I’m a cripple. A raspberry ripple. Wheelchair Bound. Simon and Garfunkel.
A sudden burst, a rat-ta-tat, six minutes at least it lasts. Nothing moves but these twisted fingers on the keyboard. A radio monologue describes an airport encounter. John Mortimer.
Namedropper, that’s what I’ll call it. namedropper. James Joyce Carol Oates.
A Friday in October.
Sounds awesome.
nearly gave in there. The urge to blog. SOS to the world #3064…fills the time & I like it. quiet. Just the radio. Me & the Radio. The wireless. The Other Girl by John Mortimer, that’s what it was. Calls? Check for incoming. Clean up. Put the kettle on. Polly.

Foodless and fancy food means cook sausages—will it be with chips?
Afternoon dawns grey mass dormant air leaves dampen droop slump
Weather report done.
H-bomb calls about F-bomb. Emmer Greensward, Reading. The long haul begins. Chips or the full Monteverdi? Tough call, tough, tough calll…
—Trim your beard, you slob
—In the fullness of thyme, Master. The fullness of thyme.
Get out some haddock to deforest. Is this a hangover or just bog standard gastro-enteritis? No fried eggs, no chips. Green salad, Tabasco, shallots, spinach…


Livid Kyle Funkadelic

She said:
How does it feel to



Breathe in octave,

in one voice,

the celebration of the fungus,

sharp light on water,

a trout called esther williams

has parasites on its whiskers,

they say: ‘shave this fish, shave this fish’

and slip under a fan dancing turbine

off for porridge & smokies.

View original post

Fantasy Fare for Fatso…



Prized frazzled bacon
Eighty per cent carbonized
Off wrecked baking tray
Tabasco sausage pitta pouched
Fractal endive rainforest
Two toddler sized tomatoes
Windfall scallions
Slithered thinly scattered
In your dreams Fatso

Self, self, self…


Waiting for my lunch


Waiting for my lunch

Went in the kitchen

At twelve of five

Marinade the fish

Chopped up the chives

Like Lilian Gish


Waiting for my lunch

Move it on!


Sudden catharsis

Rooted to the spot

Catatonic subverters

Absent sense of direction

Can’t find my way out

Trial an error live and learn

Back to the drawing board

Fresh pens & pencils

Kitchen utensils

The galley slave goes to it

Cooking up a storm

Pork & Beans

Five hours interrupted

agitated slumber:

fleas, knees, wees, mice, wind…

then by a landslide

due to popular demand

democratic vote

solely renditioned

me to imprisonment

In The White House.


Head bagged in muslin

Slick black Cadillac

At my insistence

The invisible security

exercise the dog.

For I am become

President elect of Poop.

Defender of the Fart


When will I be shot?

Brutal destiny or what!

Why is it always

just me it happens to?

If I wish really

hard can I become

an innocent bystander?


I as usual

wake up blown away

hit the old routines:

soft shoe shuffling,

rolling and folding,

paying scant attention

to what’s on the wireless.


Sure, we all pretend

how shocked well deep down

glad it is not our turn.

Sad but true but sadly true

Never reheat pork

after sundown time

it blows your bowels

constipates your mind

Dazed & Confused


Thine be the Glory

Fol-de-fol-de-fol- de-rol!

monkeys dressed up jesuits

long-long-long bevor


how sweet it is

to be






Steady Tyger




the gad



the sad











still born




On the



I call it Blake

She dedicates this










%d bloggers like this: