soft larch needles    I sniff wish     thin dangling larch twigs hold
raindrops    christ & pagan wrapped to tinsel    autumn light
has projected Borrowdale’s matter    a work crafts growth    I

peer    at a twig’s knuckles    a needle’s green edge   a tiny globe
dissolving landscape    Borrowdale is a    mass    of details full
a vastness of minuscule    high    resolution beauty    immense

numbers of bits    of leaf-frames pebbles daddylongleg claws
for an instant I spread    let    a moment explode    as I climb
through woods by crags    every detail of me    follicle bone-cell

grease    shatters or slicks    amongst     Borrowdale’s infinite
tiny details    one    of my gasps stretches wetly with the beck
others entwine with white fibres of gills    unravelling    gravity

the calcium atoms of my teeth    jumble     along drystone walls
moss green-gleaming    my meal     of Herdwick meat    passes
through my gut whilst Borrowdale’s    details    digest my soul

A Poeme from ye Penne of
ye right learned Professor Peter Buttocke
collected by hysse Pupille Edna*


There is an ancient Shittah in my Garden, eldritch and right dun in alle Aspect
Wherein dwelleth a loude and noisome Ouzel, ye like of which I have ne'er yet seen
Under thysse our goode Goddes fayre Welkin up in ye Skye above us alle.
This foule and unwholesome Beeste, with trespassynge shote-like ****** Effusiones
Hath performed ye veritable Antithesis of kindly horticultural Edulcoration
For whiche Sinne I shall emasculate ye Brute, so God may grant me Pow'r.
Sudating at ye Nostrilles I advance, my trustie Stang at ye ever-ready,
And I prepare to eject it from yon Pollard, having previous shattered
Alle its horryd Frangibles with one brave bolde frampold Blowe.
Thwacke! A last Piffero-reminiscent Warble escapeth loude from its fowle coronoid Appendage;
Right severe Damage and harsh fatal Ruine of Nature irreversible have I caused
To ye shaggie shamelesse little avian Runte, whereon Goddes smile hath ne'er dawned.
Thus descendeth it to the Faeces-bedecked Herdwick, and I titubate triumph'lly o'er its conticent Corpse.
And were there yet a duodenary Set of ye Frass-Depositors, I would not give a Demi-Testrel for their Survyvall
Should they e'er again infringe the sacred Privacie whych ye ancient Shittah enjoyeth in my Garden.