Full house 

Ace of clubs

In the streets and on the bus

Lightning fired from hearts

Speed frothing at the mouth

Rooted in the deepest pit of the minds 

My word are they crazy?

Hitting, smashing, raging 

Expending dangers like apples thrown against you

One might hurt

They have hillsides full of this 

Rage filled apples

To throw 

Arrived by their inhumanity 

Furiously battled 

Curing all down 

Like helpless cattle

Hated by 

Thinking gone

Nothing but rage 

Till the moment they stop 

Sadness then comes like a 

full stop

Surfing Fonts

A song dedicated to all those whom surf this sea of fonts.

Aldus font for me, out in the C

lexicon of typeface flowing at me
Bold as you like, italic if you wanna fight 

Rolling on the sans, serif of the waves tonight
Choosing Caledonian waves, I’m giving into my inner Nick Cave

Swift Rockwell nights, ill watch out as Gloucester bites

Hei tonight, can we get Down in the Times, Palatino on my mind 

Kind words are Atlantic, can’t help if I’m pedantic
Go into the Futura on Renault that’s bluer

We move her Webdings on the rail to Madrid, New Gothic on my Set makes a bid the Characters met – 

an Ashley who writes a Script for my Dejavu Bookman in Utopia dancing to Primer tunes 

Saboon lagoon we wade in Unbuntu 

Dotum planning through American Scribes Industria

Charcoal can’t give you a Clearview to the typeface, I adhere to 

Longest canopy tendrils

Be sentenced, denting the nose of ticklish airs

Gum to you the sky is the only thing to reach 

Opening up to you she heard your crazy cries

Wearing earrings on your branches, the company of the sun

Access the vessel in cloudscape to wounderd drops 

Grasping the points on your faces infamy, you poison the growths 

The sentence is completely done, denting this nose in ticklish airs

Koala, never a bear

Mushroom in a suit

It walks in such a decomposing manner

Casting rust on all it touches 

Talking about socks and placid ties

The next day, are more of them 

Happy to take on any shape you give them

Over to the jumpy hill, stinky and full of rot

Smelling at the top, rotting away

Doubt it will want to save the day

It’s a mushroom in a suit


Face of ages past
Round like the eyes of a crab
Ocean salt taste bitter and sharp and fresh
Alarm of the count of death whose rule is unquestioned
We are all his subjects but the clock is his mistress
Every day becomes you
And one more tick before your dead

Plastic bear

Down on the coaster roasters roasting mostly hazardous crab like toasties.

The sinister shore sure is sinfully scurrying waves of sickly salmon.

A plastic bear is right there on the table top cropping hair and knocking the rocking chair and getting some egregious glares.

Alone at the subset of the collection of dubstep in the heave of beautiful beats. Awash in the heat of this cantaloupes jeep a flourish of a Hammond organ bleets.

Bees knees set in trees to pounce on unsuspecting flowers who rest in the bower of the shower of rain coming from a cloud so vain it looks like venisons cower.

Clocks are to chime on every rhyme and give a little ditty too, as in this land the time, the time, is given to those who have few.

Absurd it may seem that I do gleem that my land is better than reality. It’s a rugged as such to be as much as any insactifactorally quoth does the book of mirth from which we do quirth:

that’s a different verse that I has read

And find that indeed so it does seem on a mirror of a twinkle of a dragons eye in the night that is fine and the hate that’s divine and everything is equal to zero. The hero of this tale is a very small snail whose name isn’t even on page one.

The tape of gate and the mate who is late and finally demands that we are poets. Gives a present of letters from a far away settler made entirely of broken TVs. A thought does arrive that we are not surprised and do decide…

that’s just a load of lies

So on we put out hat and shout to no one in particular, that it’s a fine day on the beach and despite the presence of plastic bears and overcooked crustation and knees and bees and everything else we can see that it’s high time we got on our way please and goodbye to all you who have had the time to read. (Or listen)