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| D Mockney |
making ends meet
overpriced & not
fit for purpose our
solid granite launch
sank like a rock
that’s enough of hard
ships it’s like some
Greek
geezer’s metonym
flew from their pen
Styrofoam for inst
never mind the
paint
ain’t a patch on sand
stoning the crows
if we must attempt
ocean crossings trust
not in blood or steel
horsemen dismount
metaphors break
step
what we need’s a bridge
built of blood
& tears
bugger the rest
out now in paperback, the chapbook,
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what the Dickens
beaten black &
blue with selfie sticks
blind as
Gloucester when he saw the truth
what’s the point of
all these violins
hand me the flute
hold that note but
ditch the thought it sucks
background music
fades to traffic noise
now Sir Alec Guinness
saunters on
pimping his boy
Fagin though he’s
not so cut the marsh
gas begin again
it’s London Fields
circa 1822 or 3
orphanage meals
fake Olivier
awards abound
clutching Oscar Hammersteins
they sing
sweet as
guttersnipes & other jail
birds on the wing
yay Polanski done us
proud it’s eel
pie & mash all
round but spare the sauce
partial to parsley
I’d sooner we’d
talked with the
horse
parental guidance
who should run for president but Joe
Blob of all the worst offenders’ mugs
popping up on screen yet folks demand
his on the plugs
cite the constitution blame the state
populism’s mainstream Babe cos George
Washington himself was sometimes licked
blimeys of course
tantamount to treason votes for gloats
order lollipop on wholewheat bread
Stormy Daniels going what’s your game
off with his head
call the Weinsteins in they knows the drill
training overtakes the urge & cry
stop before things get too far you owl
reach for the sky
there that wasn’t such a song & dance
wipe your button counting forty winks
Babe shall put the kettle on for tea
lovely cufflinks
Rabbit Burroughs
stench of nothing salt
water purified
madman overboard
failed to drown
washing up a beach
café open it’s
egg & chips & get
back in line
horror me no more
purple trouser smoke
Woodbines Players Weights
choice between
straight & narrow cop
movie logic bad
guys all good to go
on for years
crunch of boring owl
shingle Hastings prom
Battle Abbey lost
war & won
bit o’ Irish
read Joyce in the Lord
& stick Beckett on your bucket list for that extra difficult lark you gotta
slip some context in or maybe stage a contest no think it’s easy Mush calling
the shots on Gaelic lit between Swift & Wilde the pressure dropped somewhat
then all hell broke fast & loose talking bout override the seventh gear of man
no woman cry gobbledegook & source the germs of pure wit or not to whit
that is one question here’s another nay enough of yer rhetoric youse charlatans
must have something to say whereas I have nothing you dig wafting on for no
particular reason to pass the time of day or is it night I forget which to coin
a phrase never quite understood the line between like break the mold or is it
mould who cares there’s always gonna be some soft get standing on the dung heap
beating a pair of owl frying pans and hollering yes hollering how it’s completely
out of order beaming Scotty not on your Fitzgerald note the switch from Irish some
say the Japanese have got the lot licked I wouldn’t know a half of stout’s
about as much as I can rush to these days cheers Partisan you see it’s only the
way of the world wear froth on me top lip as a moustache ask the barperson what
they’re having cos when in Rome gotta take a look at a Pope even if they’re not
in & the Colosseum or the Pantheon biggest concrete hat now there is a
place that & Ye Cracke in Rice St not Rice Lane no Sir that would have to
be the daycare centre formerly known as The Plough watering hole of the Proddy
ghetto for all is changed a fiendish beauty gone to town
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| no slops! |
