Tag: Stormy Weather

Rue Morgue Avenue



Bullets rain,

winds prance,

Cold suns rise,

firebirds dance.

Sirens wail,

beggars chant:

Honi soi qui mal y pense.

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Sheer sparkling wit,

wild infant crazy hopes,

whose voices, too true, call to us all

like spooks

Whistles and rattles

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Portrait of a Maybe



No malice no cry

Removed annoying tiffin dag

Dried up fruit cake crumb

Hard to break down cranberry

Undigested lamb cutlet

Or something more sinister

Don’t look now says Henry James

pulling on worn cardie

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Canoes & kayaks hurry past

buffeted by cataracts

in search of sweet asylum

way beyond a joke

a trope

a paradigm

nature’s cracking up

so it would appear

is everything else

Wild Night


Look Ma, No land!

Outward bounding sounding.

Leap in the dark chart.


Trust me. Trust the boat.

Shiver me timbres, if you must.

Anchor me and I stop.


Mistreat me and you will suffer at your own hands.

Freedom is yours.

Sez whose army?


Smell cloved rind, take deep draughts of zestful Pomander.

Ambergris, musk, or civet – know not which

smell hangs round my neck.


To conceal?

Contenders include:


Old stale boxers, empty horses, prize-fighters,

ring rusted, knocked out, punch trunks.

No. Clean out last night.


Socks and slippers, forget me not when I forget thee.

Drongo alert.

Tweet, tweet, dive


Survived the ambush, another sell buy shooting:

left gazpacho kippers out flat, plumb tuckered,

gobbled up with occidental relish.


Post war: Daphnia, Delia, and Celia skip

a light fandango with Mandingo, leave him manacled,

popsickled, humbled: prone to pillage.


Pesky parishioners, villainous villagers, codpiece Carmellites,

how they muddled meddle,

wild hunters pass by like trappist hoodlums.


Silent but deadly

Past Full moon, Rowan hides it,

cloud gusts fade to wispers.


Hunters swoon with exertion,

rest in peace

on mauve nasturtiums.

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