Time to slake our thirst for words

A cerebral circle of wordsmithery

Burying two dozen rats

In your neighbour’s garden

Under their prized rose patch

Whom you’d never liked one night

 

There’s a rat in the allotment –

What am I going to do?

 

Don’t worry – every little thing’s all right

 

So the broken beasts of shadows that speak

A bird, drawn in sand, is freed & flies

Around the Mayfair restaurant

Looking for the 3rd floor

 

Down the sun slashed alleyway the boy draws

Squares and triangles on the walls – fills them

With images of lager and Guinness

A re-acquaintance with the black stuff,

Magic-ed me back to the haze of wasted afternoons

 

For his final request he ordered a Guinness, as his

Beautiful hangwoman waited with two Martians and

Leonard Cohen sang of fear at night time.

 

My 9 foot ten boyfriend from Mars

Will zap you with his Lazer gun,

Orange and beautiful really happened

 

A broken arrow strikes the stone.