Mick Randall is my friend. He makes chairs →
ARE YOU TRYING TO MUG ME OFF?
Sitting in The Graveyard
Sitting in the flora, oh so pretty in your ways, we were playing musical chairs- taking breaks for lemonade, the sky looked so idyllic but got terribly irate when you went home. The clouds were disrespectfully spitting and it seems like you’ve angered the sun. I can’t believe you went home without me. There were derelict chicken shops; you had to knock three times and ask for Scott if...
theonion: Search Crews Continue To Look For Obviously Dead Hikers Autistic reporter Michael Falk questions the logic of continuing to look for a group of lost hikers who clearly are no longer alive.
I’ve been waiting for my ship to come in.
Industrial Solvent. Solved
Cement, bones, a body. Repent. Run away, they won’t find him for time. You smashed him up boiiiiiiii, buried him in lime. Shampoo your hair, you’re scared. Wash your face with pears, it’s a soap. Don’t rub edible fruits on your face in hope that it will cleanse your pores. Poor show. Blood? No. Grab your conscience and tell it that you don’t like crickets, or...
The Cold (non-insulated) House.
If the ball hits you, you’re gay. If you don’t spit before you kick the ball, you have aids. Pick that mother up. Why did you hide my trainers? I didn’t, but for accusing me, I’ve put lubricating jelly all over your scaffolding and on the rungs of your step ladder. Teach me the dance to All Rise by Blue? …………..Please? Comatose from all the gin,...
Teacups are well muggy.
Supermarket reward vouchers are posted through my letterbox on a glowing Saturday morning. I’m playing Fifa, currently in the middle of a La Liga season with Athletico Madrid, while my girlfriend is cleaning. I contemplate doing some excercise but instead just lie back on the sofa, Xbox controller in hand, and lift my legs in the air so as to give myself the absolute slightest of abdominal...
The Haystacks Ignited
I met an old lady who’d been to the circus, her heart it was shaking, her clothes were all black. She told me of screaming and going beserk and said a lion had flipped and went on the attack. A juggler juggling fire got bitten and slipped in a pile of planks. The haystacks ignited immedietly and the hippos were boiled in their tanks. The big top was burning the skies were all red and...
Chicken Roy-ale Berkshire Hospi-tal.
Cycle past hospitals. Its not easy to hope. Staring down spectacles at, soon to be, ghosts. Nurses stand yawning just accomplished a shift. I’ve not long awoken in much need of a lift. High fiving couples, smiling with eyes. Families crying, so happy, surprised. A world full of gloom that I pass on bike. “All clear” says their status. Like.
Dreams and Hacksaws
Wardrobes. Cupboards with shelves in them filled with jackets (not potatoes) and pullovers. I don’t have a clothes rail. Why is he rubbing a crystal on his head? Somebody needs to dob him in, get him committed into a mental home. The more crystals he drapes, the more mad he gets. I thought they were supposed to absorb the insanity? I found a junior hacksaw, in an old bag, at the bottom of my...