Month: June 2016

That thing

There is a pretty songbird,
living on our street.
He wakes up every morning
and says ‘Tweet, tweet!’.

I know some day he’ll fly away,
and I will feel so strange.
Then I’ll write a soulful poem
about that thing called change.




I love those gooey poems
that talk about the soul,
and mention time and memory
lying anguished in a bowl.

Best of all are poems
about love’s reviving cup,
and how it saves aforesaid soul
— those ones really crack me up.



The floor was strewn with fuzzballs,
and mullypuffs filled the cella,
the day my sweetie shaved her legs
for her role in Pulcinella.



I must tell my pattawalla
to bar the windows close:
there’s a fiend that stalks the land tonight,
and I’m never fond of those.

I think his name is Jimmy
or it could be Harry Black.
Whatever the case, he has a face
like the road to Hellenback.



The Earl of Tonypandy
made a fortune from nut candy,
and he then became a dandy
in the stews of Paris, France,
where the Earl of Tonypandy
could indulge his taste for brandy
and outrageous forms
of fruit and nut romance.