Month: August 2014

blind

you said
“how do you make
a venetian blind?”
so i took you
to a factory
that specialised
in their manufacture

you left me two weeks after

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An End to Frippery

Frank was quite frivolous,
A fomenter of frippery,
And followed his fickleness
Down a slope that was slippery.

His existence was rife
With the shallow and tawdry
Until into his life
Came plain-speaking Audrey.

She said he must cease
Being so vapid and petty
Or he’d not have a piece
Of the pursuits of the sweaty.

The change that ensued
Was greeted quite grumpily
But Frank soon subdued
His tilt towards trumpery.

 

fluff

every evening,
for twelve years,
i would contemplate
my navel,
a nightly session
with my knotted
depression
in which
i would inspect
the cleft
to see what the day
had left.

the daily deposit
would be scraped out
and stockpiled
into shoe boxes
until i had enuff
of the stuff
to knit you a scarf
of scraped fibres,
a lint-stitched
muffler,
a belly button
fluffler.

Holiday Reading

Leila lying at the lido,
Lapping up some Don DeLillo.

Bob basking on the bietzsche,
With his daily dose of Nietzsche.

Paul poised by the pool,
Pouring over VS Naipaul.

Tania wrapped in beach towels,
Explores the works of John Fowles.

Cilla instilled inside her villa,
Still engrossed in Friedrich Schiller.

Deborah delays before she dips in,
Immersed entirely in Solzhenitsyn.

But I’m hiding under my duvet,
Reading a biography of Michael Bublé.