bath me in poridge
i've got a hot date
going knowle and dorridge
and can't n
can't be late
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
I am pleased to tell
you that
we
Can pay you Jobseeker's Allowance
from 10 October 2014.
You will get £57.35 a week.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
My favourite man
The Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels
Does a nice big kick
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 6:37 PM UTC
Under crisp and deathless winter mornings
Ensconced in hollows in ash-grey burrs
Wassail godhead de proprietate probanda;
Here I left your voice last
Supine
In fog.
A challenge; memory affronts in
Spirals, sifting the useless to the
Apron somewhere at the crown.
This, rather, is where I left you.
The rest is seasonal.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
The brilliant stars
sing
my mystery eyes,
and
I am the Man Eater
of Poonanai
Sail away,
Sail away,
Sail away.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
We put them into the microwave to dry out,
That midsummer. The air cooled,
High over the Chilterns, and we met
The finished product
Hit the North
and Hit the Arcades
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
Everybody knows
Badger likes
Mashed Potato
Makes them into Shapes
And Eats Them
Every Day
Why did you leave me behind
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:26 PM UTC
When I was fourteen
I had a skiing accident
Abroad
The one thing I missed about England
was Ken Clarke MP
Come back early or never come
Now I sit alone, drenched
in your sister's sweat
Today, we found two mixing pools
But there'll be no prosecution
Don't hit my cat, Daddy
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
Looking out of the kitchen window
Stirring decaf all vaguary-prone and listless
To the lawn, where, this morning,
George, the Alsatian now deceased
Frolicked amongst brambles.
Before he went berserk. Before,
Alas, I had to kick his head in;
I am suddenly eight years old
And lost, in Whitstable Castle.
Around me, humans traipse
And march their aching infants around
Unknowing that I am lost. I cry out:
"Father! Your child is missing,
Father! Do you not notice?
Can you not see?"
My father, however, winds
An unending reel of film
On a now long binned disposable camera
With his thumb. Raking through
Fresh memories, a combing sound
With never a click. His is absorbed,
Cannot hear my cries.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
Molluscs in Felpham
on a humid June night;
these are your friends
and this is your village
and I'm sweating more,
since you lent me this lotion,
Clive Anderson's Brut Romance
Knock, knock, on my porch window
And I will invite you, "swallow-down
gentle my "frere j'accord dans l'hotelier".
I can move any mountain.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 7:39 PM UTC