Four no rule,
no measure years,
just got back mid-morning:
soft landing,
natives just the same, not me;
too much time to think, you see,
so everything is good or bad up there.
Back with a head full of seaweed, razor
whale gore,
syphilis and carnage. Whodunit?
Ask the guy in the looking glass. He say:
Author of your own destruction
with a little help from your
acknowledgements.
Left is right.
Right is left.
No turning back
You know too much
Moussaka from Alaska!
Aint
Had any moose
For donkey’s ears.
Jazzy caresses
Tell me:
If you can keep your head
When all around are
Are losing theirs
You can read this.
Thin whistle distant,
scree creeps,
screeps
sheeps
Cader Idris slopes
off to Dolgellau.
A massif thirst descending.
Old bards tools, blood and quill
discarded in a brogue,
bob along half tidy
Mawdach for
Cardigan’s litterol.
Watch Out!
Soul in fluxion.
…mad rush phantom turd
fear false alarm no bombs
all clear for now slip back
down fizzy coffee.
air room fug.
World flora crown sill:
red rose,
cactus rose and aloe vera,
baby cactus rose,
yucca – George the summat,
stray leafy leaf
avoids peach tobacco
stage curtains,
old small paned iron strip windows,
titan thickening privet
sprouting lawn,
brick brown semi
some big trees hide
simple horizon
planeless skies
Coming up to six.
End of nice days
after tomorrow
just
for a few weeks.
Auric sun on pink wall,
new bronze age.
Savers saved,
survivors not.
So no cause for concern
then:
Sufficient unto the day
is the evil thereof?
Oxen stare out
ankle deep in mud
catch a flaxen
burst of lux gold sax.
The procession nears:
Madame Charcot,
her Footmen,
borne by
mute lace makers.
They pass,
Waving waxen,
lit by Tilley Lamp
and near full
plumb
moon.
Here to replace
the sleeper.
Then
After that
Matins and Martini.
Misery lurks in the long grass,
armless and still,
like good gone west.
No post today
Blog and door.
Busy
being unknown by
and to the outside world.
Inside
howsoever
the world was
mad hectic:
sitting reading, eating,
staring, smiling, scowling,
snarling, sighing, tutting
spitting, speaking, saging,
mulling, musing, chuckling,
nodding, turning, snooping,
slurping, sighing, smoking,
standing, stepping, shaking…
That’s Quite Enough
words commencing
with ‘s’ for now.
Clouds over,
have a grey
smoke – good is
always too
good to last.
Glanced at this
‘…golden words
turn to dust,
war makes you
platitudinous…’
Thinks: Duckbill
Platypus.
A boring
genius
scatters wise
word seed on
stony ground.
Duck Bill sees.
Eats them quick
before the
blue parrots.
Slips back in billabong.
Polygon.
Bright green bus,
Blonde dressed black,
Sun kissed feet
‘Good morning!’
Yesterday
was pure good
sunlight all the way
today the bricks
are happy and
light hearted
I am bronzed.
Like Homer.
An hour later
the faff is on.
Sun is out,
chicks tweet
in ply fascia,
ulster hymns hum,
care will come
and relieve
Mafeking
peace and quiet
Grimbeau 