of crickets and grasshoppers …

Hear the little cricket ‘sing’, using teeth upon its wing (raised to help acoustically), ‘heard’ by membrane on its knee. Grasshoppers upon a farm –
Poem of the week

Love and Socialism

We met infront of Marx’s tomb; watched the October setting sun; gazed up as stars rose from the gloom. I chose a star, said “You’re that one”. And then we kissed and raised a fist
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Jigsaw

Puzzle

Sitting in the British Library

Why do I love it, why does it get me down? Why? I like the sheen and the patina and the sloping doors, the slope of the floors, the romanticisation of books, of covers, illuminations ... I like

the horns of "nevermore"

as the moon howls at the dogs and the leaves rise into the trees, skeletons in smart suits with shining pins shimmy their jazz knees and swing the skinless ladies about

The good, the bad...pages 44 to 55

NOVEMBER 2004 WEEK TWELVE

Sneaky Feet

If you want to sneak Don’t use elephant feet They’re not very sleek And pound out a beat The feet of a gazelle Might work quite well If they start to jump They might make a thump

The search for Merlin Homes 1/15

Jennifer Jane slid to a halt and stared in dismay as Morwenna’s front door was slammed in her face.

Sleeps Revenge

Never curse sleep or it will have its revenge...

Scythe Swag Side Stalk - Poem 6 (Home)

Señores Guardias Civiles, Aquí Pasó Lo De Siempre. Aquí Han Muerto Cuatro Romanes Y Cinco Cartagineses.

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