Thursday, 18 September 2008

my new pot plant has a history

cyclamen petals turn
the world in on itself
hurling colours
magic dots as airwaves
my microwave eyelids are
free to see
whatever they want to .....

a circus parade
pinky greener
arguable gender ..... tick
short on stature
long on longing ..... tick
starts a scene
with a sideways glance
testing the resolve
of the morning ratters
holding court at
kings cross station

then science does the god thing
or is it god that does the science?
and I'm free no more to see such things
this cyclamen pastiche
is all I view
and 6 bucks is a bargain
tripped out plant
sings take me home

Sunday, 7 September 2008

the flu, literally

doctor of words
my well is emptying
the bucket drips
adjectives pronouns
spilling and useless
all the great phrases
and painted descriptions
thousands of words
left in the dirt

take two of these
they may make you dizzy
rest on your lauriet
or else you'll be braindead
nurse .... see the patient
does what I tell him
scripto fantasticus
stare out to sea.