Proud cufflinks punch drunken bees

fires of furniture at number 92

a sword of death a copper kettle

tick tock tick tock and the

glory of untamed flowers

who love to dance.

United in flames, the music bringing you

together, footnotes in history

Winnie the Pooh is still dancing

motes of morning light on the edge

of a life show doilies and discounted cake...

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Wallowing in darkness like warthogs in a pool

Horrendous December in the Gym

Under my duvet a donut prods my lust.

Outside the ambulance carries the lost prophet Susan

Through the slashing rain.

Channelling memories that everybody liked

More than joy, joyriding with sweaty socks leaving

A pile of charcoaled grief.

Grim and grimmer walked away 

Without a gl...

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There’s a rumour going round that street

Pushing past their little destinies

Caught short Shakespear relieved himself against the corn sheaves

The fox startled bit the leg of the harvest jigger

The painting has little time to dry, as poets' pens begin.

To take down a street of music, blended to new worlds of rhyme.

Underneath the moon

The rabbit did not sto...

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Helix barriers all over the world

Riddles flow through digital death traps

What is a man now with no cheap cigars

A mad dead love of afterthoughts gone

Mad Tony's hologram cycles around the

Lanes of South Wales as Alexa 

Shouts "Give us 20 pence!"

Ooh! I can see Winnie the Pooh

In The wardrobe!

The candle, the book, and the wardrobe;

Wet washing and dag...

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Various forms, jump into sestinas

with withering winds and eager ancestors

A room with no windows shakes and rattles

It holds inside a madman singing of

Man's Fall.

From man back to monkey

With a wave of Mr Wizard's Wand

That cruel hateful yellow star

Kissing chaos: my man is not ill

Tasting the salt, feeling the bullets

He disappointed his ancestors,

as ...

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Lost in transition

Your words carried like a brief encounter

Emotion is the monster hiding outside the walls

Gangreen in suburbia and skinned alive

With donkey ears! Good Gods!

Occupations occupy stations on the wall

Barrymore paints the myths of time

To hang in Manchester as a quiet man

Tells of lost love.

Sonnets to art leave us lost

There's rumo...

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Barely living through the dance of night

Tiger-stripe trapeze in savage growl

Swiss diligence with eerie eyes

From corridors of incandescence

To alleyways of guttered candles

Room with nothing but lonely memories

Ghosts, horror, the present, the past.

Everything changes. Nothing changes

Memories and wishes.

Two children play in the ashes

Where...

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