Saturday, 6 March 2010


12 Fish Fingers

12 fish fingers photographed

on the surface of Mars

by a tiny land rover -

conclusive proof that we

are not alone in the universe

but what does it say about us

that the Martians,

who are prepared to eat

blue fish fingers

still don't want to talk to us...

Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Ungulate


(Mammal with hooves)

Hooves are not, strictly speaking, feet,
But rather toenails.
This is why
Ungulates are elegant
They don't walk
They glide along on tippy-toe.
This is how the cow
Jumped over the moon -
Balletically.

June the 29th 1867
Was a bad day for ungulates
(And other native Americans)
Buffalo Bill Cody
To feed the workers
Of the Kansas Pacific Railway
Shot 2,525 American bison.

Franz Josef, Emperor of Austria,
Having recently been beaten up
By Bismark and having recently
Heard of the death of his brother
(The former emperor of Mexico)
By firing squad
And having recently been told of
The bad habits of his son Rudolf
(The future suicide)
Went out from his hunting lodge
In Bad Ischl
And shot 1,597 ungulates
Of various sorts and sizes.
Then he brought back the horns -
Even the tiny ones -
And hung them on the walls
Where they can still be seen…

William Cody and Franz Josef
Are still very popular
In some circles
Of this planet.

Wednesday, 14 May 2008

Nothing ever stays the same



there is a vulture called Caligula
sitting on the roof ridge
I thought perhaps he came
to eat the squirrels
or the crows
something should
but he ignores them
staring only at me
little flaming eyes
huge Roman nose
he’s been driven mad by global warming
an illegal immigrant
who wants my house
and my liver
he plans to make his horse
chairman of Haringey Council
he might as well
I stayed indoors for three days
when I peeped out
I saw hyenas peeping in
through the brambles
cranes dabbing at the brassica
enormous insects inspecting the compost
I went to chase them away
Caligula’s left eye impaled me
I scraped back inside
locked the door
drank whisky
ate a doughnut
I can hear strange noises out there
I think it’s a rhinoceros
rubbing against the damson tree
I’m expecting the legions of wart hogs
and baboons very soon
I won’t be able
to build the wall in time
I’ll have to rely on diplomacy

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Wednesday, 30 April 2008

Elephant


Nellie the elephant

trod on a landmine

in Thailand

they had to amputate

and owing to the shortage

of wooden legs for elephants

they advertised

on the internet

a penitent lady from Kensington

sent them her

elephant's foot

umbrella stand

Friday, 11 April 2008

The Garden

The garden grows as if it will live for ever

Humming bees under the winds of chaos

Flinging flowers into the air

Leaving leaves to hang there

Worming roots of the need for care

Silently screaming: “Weed me, seed me

Double dig me, love me, feed me!”

Suddenly one day in 1926

It grew a house of lime and bricks

To hold tame humans armed with sticks

And spades and forks and hoes

And plumbing

And it was good

The garden wanted more

It opened its legs, jocund and fecund

Bonked a passing rainstorm

And gave birth to a street

Semi-detached, perfectly matched

With gardens in its own image

Deeply complacent,

Looming loam and humping humus

The garden dreamed a long, gestatory dream

Gravid with grapes and gooseberries

Heavy with hollyhocks

Until Foof! Flam! Pinch me!

The garden created Finchley

Complete in every detail that you see

Including fake photos on the walls of Tescoes

Of what it looked like in 1893

Then the garden settled down for an eternity

Of middle-class suburban comfort

But away down, under the ground

The Gnostic Gods of Gnossos

(Not far from Knossos)

Searched under the Stygian depths

And Tartarean epths

And released from a dark, dark, dark, dark hole

A garden-guzzling creature

Who only wants to eat you

Whose fate is still to beat you

Who always will defeat you -

The blind, entropic mole...

Saturday, 5 April 2008

Paul Eluard


L'amoureuse

Elle est debout sur mes paupières
Et ses cheveux sont dans les miens,
Elle a la forme de mes mains,
Elle a la couleur de mes yeux,
Elle s'engloutit dan mon ombre
Comme une pierre sur le ciel.
Elle a toujours les yeux ouverts
Et ne me laisse pas dormir.
Ses rêves en pleine lumière
Font s'évaporer les soleils,
Me font rire, pleurer et rire,
Parler sans avoir rien à dire

The Lover

She is standing on my lids
And her hair is in my hair
She has the colour of my eye
She has the body of my hand
In my shade she is engulfed
As a stone against the sky
She will never close her eyes
And she does not let me sleep
And her dreams in the bright day
Make the suns evaporate
And me laugh cry and laugh
Speak when I have nothing to say

(Translated by Samuel Beckett)

Friday, 28 December 2007

Strainofthought














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