humour (Remove filter)
On hearing John Fowles fart
In the sun bathed seaside town of Lyme
Where ice cream now drips where dinosaurs once walked
pastel shaded cottages skirt the sea
And Grockles eat cockles and cobbs on the Cobb.
A writer of repute resided
A postmodernist existential philosopher
Who welcomed me into his home
A number of times, talking of his craft
His books his work and films that were made of this
...
Monday 8th April 2019 6:35 pm
Recent Comments
Red Brick Keshner on sunbeam records
14 minutes ago
Mike Bartram on Diogo Jota RIP 1996 2025
8 hours ago
Nigel Astell on A Poetry Pint with a Unique Taste of Evening Entertainment
9 hours ago
Nigel Astell on July 2025 Collage Poem: Dancing on the Edge
10 hours ago
john short on ARRIVAL OF CONCRETE
11 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Sugar !!!
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sugar !!!
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Meh!
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on sunbeam records
13 hours ago
Tom Doolan on Everyday Is Pain
15 hours ago