Wednesday, 27 March 2013

Simon Says



PUBLIC NOTICE

Plain-clothed human beings are known to operate in this area    
                                                                                
Should you suspect someone of being plain-clothed human being
Please don't approach them                                              
Just call                                                                      
Freephone 0800 Plain-Clothed Human Being Watch                
You may be charged for this call                                        

Should you suspect yourself being  plain-clothed human being                                             
Please don't approach yourself                                           
Or point at your own reflection                                            
Or call attention to yourself in any way                                  
Just call 0800 Plain-Clothed Human Being Watch                   
 Your call will be treated with the strictest confidence                
So you will never know                                                    

Please don't have nightmares                                             

Call Freephone 0800 Plain-Clothed Human Being Watch 

Because I Could Be Me    
                                                                               



Friday, 22 March 2013

Tokyo Spring 2013 Haiku


Face-masked of Toyko -
cherry blossoms drip early -
sulphur in snowdrops.


Wednesday, 13 March 2013

A Snowflake With Your Bullet On It


There's a poem hiding under my fridge,
Like a mouse without a pillow;
Like a fridge magnet within a freezer;
Like Hugo Chavez as his Madame Tussauds lookalike. * 

He stands, the mouth open, the fist in the air,
In full flow,
Below the din of the one-cymbal-clapping Terracotta Army.

Poems usually collide Dumdum with my head -
Hollow-point on the third eye,
Like a vat of mustard accidentally pollinated.

I shall boil some noodles the flavour of elastic bands.
Nothing captures the taste of elastic bands quite like bargain-noodles.

Why are children force-fed sprouts at Christmastime?
It's their parents' sweet revenge,
As the choking cash cows' offspring purge, splurge, sob and vent..

The marbles spin in the liquidiser.
A butterfly's wings wilt, cooked in the marrow of a smog-lined sun.
A California yoga-philistine applies to copyright the design of every snowflake.


* Madame Tussaud's is now the more funky Madame Tussauds. 



Sunday, 3 March 2013

The Eurosceptic From Atlantis



How do we reposition ourselves in Europe? 

We're in the wrong position: 
Too off piste; 
Too oft pissed; 
Too pissed off. 

Too pissed off - 
And especially when pissed - 
And especially when pissed off - 
And especially when pissed. 

Sceptical about Europe? 

Like? 
Is it there? 

Not sceptical about Euroscepticism. 
Because? Well, that is definitely there. 
In fact, it's so there, it's here! 
And, if what is there is here, 
Then what is here really doesn't need to be there. 
Hmmm..so there! 

And, so it follows.. 
As Europe mightn't be there at all, 
Euroscepticism can only thrive..here, 
(For where else could it? or should it?: 
Only until such a point that it's.. there?) 

Uh oh! 
Now wait a minute! 
Would that not mean 
Europe must also be there, for Euroscepticism to be disbelieved there? 
And if Eurosceptics are there disbelieving.. 
Well, that sort of begs the question.., 
Though a hypothetical one of crucial unimportance -  
Crucial unimportance. 
So unimportant it's both critically and crucially unimportant. 
And, as you know, 
A question that is both critically and crucially unimportant, 
Is of an unimportance of the deepest and most significant kind. 
Verily, and very. 
Almost like: 
If a tree fell in the middle of a forest, 
And no one was there to hear it, 
Would global warming sceptics 
make the sound.. 
Crrraaaasshhh!! in one of their cute and adorable funny voices? 

Personally, I'm all for repositioning ourselves (disbelieving), 
By Italy. 

By Italy. 
With hot air balloons. 

Wha..? With hot air balloons? 

Yeah, man,  
With hot air balloons. 
You heard right. 
Can you think of a better way? 

We could all lift off with this land, 
Throwing over our essential ballast of horsebeefburgers (one word), 
Casino bankers and frustrated fox hunters; 
Misogynistic fundamentalists and insensitive commuters breakfasting on egg burgers on trains. 

(Misandristic fundamentalists can stay on board - for now..). 

And thus, 
These irrefrangible islands shall rise tethered to millions of massive hot air balloons, arising, 
And land, aloft, loftily, 
And sort of softly, 
Mooring by (but by no means on,(as that would be plain rude)), 
The land of: 
Italian women, 
And tomatoes - tinned. 
Please kindly note, only the tomatoes should be tinned, though. 

Then all the millions of hot air balloons, 
We shall release to glide floating to the moon,  
Like we're all in a classic late-nineties tampon ad. 
They certainly don't make them like that anymore. 
Or the tampon ads.. 

I'm a man, and even I used to buy that brand of tampons, 
Only to justify to myself similarly running through a cornfield before cheerfully emancipating a bunch of balloons from a cliff top. 
Never once regretted it. 
And although my more radical feminist student friends at the time were somewhat equivocal, 
They accommodated this zephyrian avidity. 
One of them even allowing me use of  her helium balloon inflator with variable nozzle attachments. 
She even refused my offer of a Pot Noodle as a thank you. 

And, lo! 
No: there are no Moonsceptics: 
Well, the moon (that's in the sky) can be seen from here. 

Now, 
Have we ever seen Europe (in the sky), 
From here? 

Says it all really. 

And have you ever, ever once, witnessed Europhiles (in the sky) from here? 
We are the silvery seamed anti-matter to their dark matter dream..