offset very grey
decidedly pleasurable
ever so grey a sheet big!
you quite pleasurable
good, gray, pleasant
good, light, enjoyable
gray, tearful, teary-eyed
gray, tearful, teary-eyed offset
good, tearful, fine big! a sheet
good, gray, humble quite playful
ever so bright trotting
quite playful .
quite pleasurable
good, tearful, fine
contented quite solid
trembling very tall
quite solid a sheet
quite grey babycakes
trembling trembling
offset so bright
very grey beautiful
offset trotting
teary offset
big! teary
you you
so big!
so so
Monday, 6 January 2025
Big, Grey Pumpkin
109 reaction
Yes you do need to leave your room
You should not remain sitting at your table
And you must listen to many other voices
Do not ever simply wait
You do need to leave your room
Don't wait, and don't be so still and solitary
Be restless and numinary, no matter
How troubling, how counter to your nature this may seem
You do need to leave your room
The world will never freely offer itself
To you for its unmasking
You must request this pleasure, you must
Attend each ceremony
You do need to leave your room
Nature may have no choice, but you have a chance
It will never roll in ecstasy at your feet
Nor will it writhe in raptures before you
Come on now, did you really believe
This is the way it would ever be
Yes you do need to leave your room
re: Die Zürauer Aphorismen
Sunday, 5 January 2025
Hattytown Tales
I wore a beret to the office today, and people had shit to say I wore a baseball cap pulled down over my injured eyebrows I wore a sombrero on an Edwardian picnic
I wore a beanie to bed every night and I think it helped a lot
I wore a balaclava that was frozen to my mouth
I wore a bucket hat because it fits my face
I wore a fedora before it was cool Reuben
I wore a kippah and family pearls
I wore a trucker hat that said
BRIDE
while my wife wore a button down that read QUEEN
I wore a trilby then, and of course one smoked
even if one didn't enjoy it
I wore a kufi and a Public Enemy T-shirt
I wore a Santa hat and each child took my picture
I wore a homburg hat, carried a bumbershoot umbrella
I wore a panama hat to a polo match on a cloudless day
I wore a mortarboard and robe, looking tall and clear-eyed
I wore a tam o'shanter, and had Brave Tart written on my back
I wore a pillbox hat to my wedding and still get compliments to this day
I wore a visor and brought a sarong with me every single day
I wore a top hat, a ripped up suit, and dead flowers in the pocket
I wore a deerstalker most of the day Saturday, and I never do that
I wore a stetson with crossed sabers, yellow cord and sgt stripes
I wore a dunce cap and was summoned to the corner for the rest of the day
I wore a boater in summer and a beret in winter.
I did not look as good as this girl
I wore a pith helmet, a veil, a bee proof space suit,
leather gloves up to my elbows
I wore a Phrygian cap of doeskin lined with otter
I wore a turban then. In a flash we were
in each other's arms in an unrelenting hug
c. 2017
Coming in the air tonight
Turning the corner every day TCP weed and 19th century cow shit urgh
Signature garbage notes
reminiscent of blossom and piss (catpiss)
A bejesus awful stench
no garlic no returns
date unknown
The Singer
Normally I sing about 16 17 songs a night
but of course it's never enough
never enough and the audience always wants more
they say always leave them wanting more but
they really do want more if I had my way I'd sing 30 40 songs a night
even more if I didn't have to protect my voice
and I always say my voice is a precious instrument
otherwise I'd sing all day long 100 songs wouldn't even be enough
I often say I'll be singing all the songs in heaven
I probably know at least 1000 songs, maybe 2000
and I wish I knew more I'm always learning more
my head is like a library of song
a library which can never have enough books
and of course I wrote my own books by which I mean songs
I must have written 500 songs and
I'm not saying they're all classics but my audience
love to hear my new songs as well as every
song from every musical
plus the great pop hits karaoke favourites if you will
the great american songbook
chansons arias folk county blues and jazz
but really there's nothing I can't sing because
I love it I just love to sing
Thursday, 2 January 2025
A devastating portrait of the American Dream
Dr Stacey arrived, at my bedside, it was the olden days when they still did that
a reassuring presence with stethoscope and nasal hair
a man who begins at the dawn of a new day to swim in the backyard pool of some friends
he poked at my tender lower right side of abdomen (tummy), and swiftly
he twisted his ankle and so does Ned
after 10 seconds he diagnosed appendicitis and nodded at my mother, like
I'd be shocked if he wandered into my back garden, then
we'd better get the lad in for an operation, pronto
But I always blamed the chestnuts, warm chestnuts, while
Michael Rodd examined a dairy invention
my father had strangely brought home the night before, and while
William Woollard was showing a device to improve coal production and miners' health
we'd never tasted this peculiar nut before from the beech family Fagacaeae
at the age of 52, strapping but past-his-prime Lancaster appeared nude
they were sweet, warm, tasty but I was soon transfixed
as we watched The New Seekers with too few glimpses of my secret crush Eve Graham
who had surpassed Miss World 1972 Belinda Green in my demented little so-called heart
Ned is visiting a friend when he notices the abundance of backyard pools that populate their upscale suburb
still scoffing the creamy, dreamy and extremely moreish nutty snack
excited beyond all rationality by Radar Love with the drummer leaping over his kit
and the new Christmas hits we'd never hear the end of
Some pool owners welcomed him, some hated him, and
I'd be shocked if he wandered into my back garden, and
I'm not saying there were parasites in my digestive tract already
pounding on the door of a vacant, run-down home
meanwhile Slade and Wizzard were lighting up my tiny mind, while chestnuts
probably innocent but forever tainted, were
worming their way into my prematurely inflamed heart
A week in hospital followed, a surrealist voyage through time and space
my new best friend was Danny Creamer never to be seen again
even after the time we wrestled on the floor and excuse me
burst each other's stitches, boys will be boys
and the day I returned home I collapsed on the steps in the rain
stayed up late eating ice cream and watching a film with my mother
all meat Burt spends a summer day swimming home via all the pools in his quiet suburban neighborhood
wait for the ending, she kept saying gleefully, don't go to sleep yet
I'd be shocked if he wandered into my back garden
she could never keep schtum about endings, a slice of gossip, or some-
thing personal that really should have remained personal and
by the time he gets to the final pool, things really
have begun to fall apart for poor Ned, and
I don't recall my father's presence post-chestnut
but he was the captain of his soul and that's what counts
Monday, 30 December 2024
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