Friday, 13 July 2012
That fire has been burning for a long, long stint
and one blue ball twists and turns akimbo
delighting water, up and up, to air
and a whiter flower bursts into gold
and a tiny creature sucks at liquor
and that tiny creature’s gobbled by a flying bird
landing in a treetop, hammering a song
for Spring, for Spring, carousaling Spring.
Tuesday, 10 July 2012
If you get a longing for Benidorm,
it’s crucial, early doors, you realize
the wild pigs of Gaia could burgle your home.
The best looking sow will pick-the-locks, some
porkers will look-out (with piggy eyes)
while you get in the car for Benidorm.
Grunting swine in bed will be the norm
and shitting in the yard to attract flies
when the wild pigs of Gaia burgle your home.
They’ll snout your whiskey, watch some piggy-porn;
hog truffles, popcorn, apples and pork pies
when you are in the air for Benidorm.
Your bath and pillows will be rancid, warm,
with ham and eggs and sausages and fries;
the wild pigs of Gaia have burgled your home.
Drink Oloroso in the aerodrome
while big bad wolves are howling at the skies
and if you get an urge for Benidorm,
the wild pigs of Gaia will burgle your home.