Month: July 2014

man bag man

he was known
as man bag man
as he was
a man
and he had
a bag
inside which 
a man

carrying a man
was his bag

Knock Knock

Knock knock
Who’s there?
A poem.
A poem? Where?
Here. Standing on your doormat.
– I thought you were a joke format.
Well, please can I come inside?
No. Get lost. Access denied.


“You just have to pokemon,” you said
in response to a question about the best way
to get Pikachu onto a bus.

The following week I saw him,
waiting patiently as the number twenty-six
pulled up alongside the bus shelter.

Paying heed to your words I began to poke him,
gently at first, like the unsure fumblings of an
awkward teenager worried about the crossing of the line.

Stoic indifference ensued. My poking became more
insistent, the testy tapping of a typewriter replying to
an overdue payment claim for a bill long since settled.

It was only when I began prodding his stripy behind
with my pipe that he turned and addressed me,
a Pokemon fire burning in his eyes, saying:

“I am actually waiting for the number four.
What need do I have to go to Watford?”


With or Without U2


A Reflection Upon The Feeling Evoked Upon Seeing The Lead Singer From U2  Walking Down A Street With No Name Towards You

Oh no!


A Response To The Panic Induced Upon Seeing The Guitarist From U2 Walking Down A Street With No Name Towards You

The Edge!
Quick! Into the hedge!


A Reaction To The Fear Engendered Upon Seeing The Bass Player From U2 Walking Down A Street With No Name Towards You

Adam Clayton!
Taxi! Station!


A Meditation On Seeing The Drummer From U2 Walking Down A Street With No Name Towards You

U2 Drummer!