Dedicated to the passenger in front of me
when
you
recline
your
seat,
it is difficult
for me to eat
poetry
Do not go, lentil, into that good pie
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsDo not go, lentil, into that good pie
Lest it should burn not bake upon the tray,
Rage, rage against the oven turned too high.
Soybeans and chickpeas may also die
For the pulses quicken upon their way,
Do not go, lentil, into that good pie.
The pastry turns crisp and black as the night
And the scarred legumes turn to darkened grey,
Rage, rage against the oven turned too high.
And so we, like pies, when the end draws nigh,
Have charcoaled remains grieved, too, in a way,
Do not go, lentil, into that good pie.
No, do not go, lentil, into that good pie.
Rage, rage against the oven turned too high.
When I’m Gone
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsWhen I’m gone
from this world
let them say:
“He never quite managed
to seize the day.
He fought but failed
to keep shyness at bay.
He was unlikely to star
in Fifty Shades of Grey.
But he could stack
a dishwasher
in an efficient way.”
Anthem for Doomed Ruth
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsIt was Ruth’s own fault,
to tell you the truth;
she smoked like a chimney
and then fell off the roof.
How Walter would cross a busy road
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsHe would stride
through a subway
and barely falter
but, for some reason,
a bridge over-troubled Walter.
Ode To A Weather Girl
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsI write you poems
and send you flowers
you give me hailstones
and scattered
s o
h w
e r s
Morrissey’s Fridge
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsMorrissey was filled
with sudden self-doubt
as he shut his fridge door;
did the light never go out?
MONETISATION
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsThe ad said
MONETISE YOUR FOLLOWERS
so he thought
he would respond
by painting them
in the changing light,
like waterlilies
in a pond.
In the Departure Lounge
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsIn the departure lounge,
she drew him near,
then softly whispered in his ear,
not words of parting’s
sweet, sweet sorrow,
but DON’T FORGET THE BINS tomorrow.
You bagged all the seats
Assorted Poems, Selected poemsYou bagged all the seats
and created a buffer zone
out of all that you own.
For the rest of the carriage,
it was a marriage
of inconvenience.
Your stacked-up stockpiles
forced us into the aisles,
like unwanted children
from your luggage love-in.
You, ignorant of those who queued,
were sandbagged in solitude.
Maybe this is all unfair
and there are good reasons
to have your belongings there.
Perhaps, there was a lack
of space on the rack,
or your knapsack was having a nap.
Or did your bags house vital information,
which, if in the wrong hands,
might bring down Our Great Nation?
Are you a tropical disease carrier,
who, to prevent further cases,
built the Great Big Bag Barrier?
Or are you a crusader
for luggage liberty and equality?
Bags have rights like you and me.
Or, on reflection,
perhaps, it is that
you are simply
a twat.
