A Minute will Reverse
"Would you sprinkle oregano
on your egg, or no?"
said the effing chef
a cheffing eggs for tea.
"If we discovered a dimension
to escape and go
without a bag packed ready,
would we? Would we?"
Oh the dog-bark grates
and the traffic fates
while the pigeons brew
nothing for me or for you -
and the spider-haunted, fabricant-
tormented, green, Madonna phrase,
twinkles in the gravy boat -
some psychedelic phase
where the rhythm is insistent
and the ironies tight bound
and the fretwork is magnificent
and all is in the sound.
Run a shiver down a spiny
and a goose bump cross a toe
for the questions are ballooning.
Where did quiet winter go?
"Would you sprinkle oregano
on your egg, or no?"
said the chef a cheffing
effing eggs for tea.
"If we discovered a dimension
to escape and go
without a bag packed ready,
could we? Could we?"
.......................
Knuckle-Duster Singing
What a din, innit?
The blackbirds begin it
minimum burst of cursing
through the garden coursing
over the hedge or through it
then the sparrows do it -
what a noisy to-do, too. It
lasts more than a minute:
chip chop, skreek shriek,
bip bap, "Cheep freak!!"
It's surely spring springing,
this knuckle-duster singing.
