b l o g
 

31.1.07

Given I Can't Bear This, I'll Assume There's Every Chance You Won't Be Able To, Either 

'Good Fuck with Clarinda'

No! I'll take nothing else instead.
There's no 'such' thing as second spring!
    I'll drink the rain for you,
but better so to have to do,
to make you make the bees sing,
sucking, Or bald or big your head,
    I'll take the cup with you!

If dawn is just a putting
out of lights, and lights are lilies,
    I'll lay a bed for you.
(That's 'how' Clarinda grew!) (That, too.)
Neck-deep in daffodillies,
in Barking or in Rutting,
    I'll take the cup with you!

The stigma is a sex unsaid,
the part that rings a happy ching!
    I'll ring a bell for you
that seeds will wake and say you're who!
who! who! raised the bluebells 'will' ring
that, too-alive or half-dead,
    I'll take the cup with you!

30.1.07

£100 for a Convincing Finish to This Verse 

I once met a Greek
whose name was Old-Dodgy-Knees;

25.1.07

Agh(o)(a)st! 

It's been a good & Scottish past twenty-four hours: Burns Night tonight, saw Camera Obscura last night, nicked a copy of Ramsay's shorter poems during the day (yes, I stole a book), &, just moments ago, appar(ent)(itional)ly, communed with the ghost of Rabbie himself such that I recalled from the other world the following occasional verse, suitable for about eight of eleven occasions that ask for verse:

Your Grace

Some caw it law to abstain,
and they drink nane stranger than rain.
It's no sae queer for a man to forsweer
for liver and life, or God and wife.
But say it be sin to hae dinner?
I dine wi sinners!

19.1.07

Inky, Blinky, Pinky, & Clyde 

The Chelsea sides of 1978–79 and 1979–80 had players named Nutton, Bannon, Sitton, and Britton.

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