from great urns


from great urns ( a smack my keats up versus the met office of a poem )

scattered from great urns above us

spattered bits in bursts of sputter

grey meets green & other colours

life & death are cousin-lovers

staggers here & taps on awning

chattered words & birds as warnings

cakes awake & serpents yawning

sprinkles on a half-baked morning

pattered earth & maybe riddles

jabbered codes of brainy fizzle

muffled drops & building trickles

listen to the summer drizzle


dearest jenny lind,


dearest jenny lind,  (  s o m e  b o l l o c k s  )

dearest jenny lind,

i'm in your fan-fanfanclub

though folk say you sang

like a nightingale but

i prefer them nightjars

barn owls & your fans

dearest jenny lind,

often things get sticky

all is saunad through

too hot then for abba

minecraft or ikea

then come wafts

 of you

( x )


stern gales in storm drains


stern gales in storm drains  (  a  ?  (  ?  )  )

there's stern gales in storm drains

& judges in wigs

there's branches called russell

so then

something twigs

fire engines when it rains

with shite siren song

cat burglars stuck up trees

so let's

wander on

- look, judas on burnt toast

he's winking - the scamp

plus bees in yon bonnet

as barns

start to dance

there's presence in present

& past in its tense

there's jigsaws & piss-takes


far too much sense


my inner-busybody


my inner-busybody  (  a  p o e m  o n  i c e  t h e  m u s i c a l  (  i n  9 – d  )  )

( my inner-busybody

told me to )

write an article

for the local parish news

tut like a king

& co-ordinate queues

in god's absence

& to keep an eye on you

( wankers )


there’s a ghost in me toaster


there’s a ghost in me toaster  (  a  s h i t  p o e m  )

there's a ghost in me toaster

& a dragon in me kettle

little imps in me fridge

& in me cupboards

the devil

( ! )

there's a troll in me fruit bowl

which is more than i can handle

wicked covens in me oven

fuck it

breakfast is cancelled

( forever )