Season

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.

Retribution of Nonsense

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.