Woolworth's six foot under
Black headscarves sift through town
Where will we buy our hula hoops
Or should we just stand still
Death of a Salesman
Woolworth's six foot under
Black headscarves sift through town
Where will we buy our hula hoops
Or should we just stand still
Nearly Dead
Wet with sweat
My duvet stinks
Torn Lemsip sachets scattered
My bones all ache
My nostrils flake
My eyebrows are all matted
Dying
Being dead's dead easy
It's dying that's the drag
Death's a good night out I'd say
Though dying's not my bag
Ode to a Horse's Rump
Is it wrong to feel
A subtle twitch
A dirty itch
A raising brow
A stealing glance
A stirring in one's underpants
For fiery folds
Which have led
The horse to be a thoroughbred
Dead Friends
I've been asked around for dinner
To a party flung by ghosts
I murdered them some time ago
They're such neurotic hosts
Batty's Dead
Nora Batty's popped her clogs
The Yorkshire battle axe
On for nigh on forty years
Now she can relax
Edinburgh is Lesbos
Best friends hold hands
They both declared
On their weekend away
We know each other inside out
Don't dare suggest we're gay
Corner Bar
Who the hell is that
Holding up the traffic
Looking at the pictures
In last years Geographic
Bruce Cockburn; Kings' School Tynemouth 1985 (For Mark Fox)
Bruce straddled on the school desk
His crotch in Fox's face
Before the Act of 89
All kinds of things took place
You're saying this
(Two fingers wagging)
Sir I'm not
(Kegs filling)
Yes I am
(He change his mind)
Bypassing
Further grilling
The Wall is Hard
Martin fell whilst pointing
Face full into the wall
Wiser for his accident
Thought to advise us all
The Tufty Club
Someone's just been splattered
On the road outside
I cannot even leave the house
Police are everywhere
My car's part of the incident
There's 'matter' on the door
It was an older lady
I threw up when I saw
High Shelves
Staring back and bawling
I wonder why it changes shape
And if it's me it's calling
I never offer sympathy
This only fuels its rage
I cannot throw the thing away
I'll entertain a cage
Uncertain of its growing rate
Its temperament
Its health
I think it's best
To pick it up and place it on a shelf
I'll wrap it in crepe paper
I'll bind it with with brown string
I'll watch it pulse there silently
I'll open it come Spring
Dishes
Pile of dishes
Sitting
With your bad wishes
Knowing about
Me and the Mrs
Thanks
For fuck all
I'll come nowhere near
Your filth and grime
You don't deserve my time
I have more important things
To do
Dishes
Mung Beans
Fuck off vegetarians
With your butternut squashes
Your bland stroganoffez
Pasta bakes
Walnut cakes
Disdain for steaks
Ribs
Pork
Liver
Shanks
Smug moral wanks
Gently coasting
Blindly nut roasting
The Existential Fireman
The existential fireman
Flung freefell from his frown
Passing
Ladders
Hoses
Lies
Himself
Suspended
As a clown
Against The Odds
Glancing the Dodo
Downs Syndrome lives on
Swerving extinction
It's back in vogue
Standing at bus stops
Chequered pants and tank tops
Staring mid distance
Touching the stars
Fuji San
Divorce knocks the shit out of you
Divorce knocks that shit out of you
Divorce kicks the shit out of you
Tremors unknown
Blasting
Try to brake in the quake
As you break in the wake
Of it all
Friends revealed
Fieldwork
Squirrel warfare
Looks hard
Washing lines
Peanuts
Lard
Swung by your tail
At sixty five
To and fro
Oncology
All is not lost
On Ward Twenty Four
The trolley with casters
Parked by the door
I can't remember
Our names
Ode to Autumn
The sun shifted
As my father's cancer
Sideways
Flaring his marigolds
Carving an arc
Way across
The vegetable patch
Lifeboat Appeal
I hear that your mum
Hit a wall
In her head
The lifeboat appeal
That jar by her bed
Half empty
Less full
Dead
Hit a wall
In her head
The lifeboat appeal
That jar by her bed
Half empty
Less full
Dead
Mynah Bird
My brother bought a mynah bird
So put it in a cage
Returned it to the pet shop
Because it would not talk
Perhaps
It had nothing to say
You daft cunt
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