~ bus station poem ( a real-life scribble ) … at bay twenty’s human zoo patience – stations queues for queues old folk natter that & this odd folk they write shit like this un… Source: bus station poem This week I’ve chosen to feature another poet, one I discovered just this week. One poem…
“I’m anxious.” I know you are. I walk behind you because if I walked in front of you you’d lose me and you’d get angry. There’s no point trying to negotiate. You think about the children, not you and I. Maybe it’s because you’re divorced, guilty, you keep me out all…
Pallets on a roof, aloof twenty-somethings on their coop-like balconies, bent arms of machinery, many miles from the farms of our ancestry. Messed up love, kissing on the pavement, rolling in kebab, dancing with someone, everyone, in a cramped bar, water dripping from the ceiling on the bartenders head, a roving hand on your…
CHICKEN SHOP CHICKEN SHOP STOP IT STOP IT YOU’RE MAKING MY CHILD FAT.
New year, new me, new you, new us, new together and new alone, new united, we stand turned boots to the future, arse to the past. We take one look over our shoulder, and with a sigh, say “Whatever,” then shrug, “This year will be better.”
From the badgering treetops To the lowly park bench Four youths Smoking Trees hang like butterfilies from Fillies a hatchery’s rooftop where the butterfly hatcher has poowerful values and lots of children, and poo. Listen to what I’m saying to you Make sense of it, make sense of this, I beg you Because I Can’t.…
rolly cigarettes on a park bench you tell me that we shouldn’t be smoking smoking is bad for the heart folding picnic chairs and spoiled sandwiches you tell me that we shouldn’t be out when the clouds are grey grey cloud means rain dirty plates and greasy pound notes you tell me that…
Alders are very suited to the site they like the wet ground. Rattling train song. Echoes of a pneumatic drill, machine-gun fire. Monetize the wild, the felled trees, butterfly souls, we are greedy, we eat too much. Lech, the ruins of a firework fire. A single peg on a scrubs arm,…
Frog with orange hair sat in the tub by the window. Stop watching me. You will only make me blush. Frog with orange hair do not make me blush. I become gas clouds behind sun. Frog with orange hair watch me turn around. I can’t face you. I will only make you blush.
Now he’s developing his own personality, you know. It’s sort of there. It’s not really a blokey thing. She carried him around for nine months, you know. What’s the difference? My lips get chapped in the winter. I have Vaseline in the car. This is better, my lips get so chapped. Yeah, but I…
Seal Matches 