Unordered Tales

No raw sausages strung together like a handkerchief trick; no bipedal crocodile, rampant and castanet jawed;

Phone calls were frequent, punchy, oblique as milk.

Speed Poem

Aeroplane poetry

Do you know what they use to make meatballs?

that there is something atavistic about balloon flights; the hanging and the hope.

This is a true story. Earlier this week I was walking down the street when I saw that an old lady's little pampered corgi had got loose and was scampering about on the pavement. She started clutching her face and wailing 'Beauty! Oh my Beauty!' She didn't do anything like walk down to retrieve the dog or ask someone else to help. Naturally, a crowd gathered, and the dog started walking away from them, out into the road. This sent the old lady into hysterics, which attracted more people, which drove the dog farther into the road, which made her even more hysterical, etc, etc. The dog seemed fine and quite happy, and wasn't ever in any danger, as all the cars were slowing down, but the old lady seemed intent on milking it for as much drama as possible. Anyway, I wrote a poem about it.

Gambling With Infidelity

It's given in, at last

Who put the 'hit' in Hitler? Who put the 'star' in Stalin?

I was there when parliament exploded

Our afternoons of jam started with a twist of the red lid and a spoon thrust in like an arctic flag.

Aeroplane poetry

Satan was too intent on doing good to stay in power for long.