His beauty moved me like owl at prayer
I’d better share my love of birds on here
He touched me like a marble falls down drains Thank God we then had lots of heavy rain
He told me he was angered by my face
I drowned on his tweed jacket spiced with mace.
I read so fast the teachers were amazed
My secret was adrenalin and haste
I never loved my neighbour as myself
For I was deep in love with someone else
We think we long for love but I might say
Intimacy rots if we can’t play.
I ate my words but could not them digest
The cruel hint, the sentence over -stressed
As if I tried to pierce another’s skin
Which was already dry, and too,too thin.
Better edit what we say with care.
Even those we love we must not scare
Take for granted nothing we adore
But walk in that pale sand, by sea, by shore .
Do not sink into the mud and dross
Despite we each must carry our own cross
For aid is near but cannot reach the deaf
The silence speaks, it does not cause distress
On the sands, we watch small children play
Bringing blood back to our faces grey.
The clouds are large like galleons on the sea
The sails are rounded swimming on the blue
The earth seems small and humble company
Some take fright and into dark they flee
Blinded by the size,ignored the clue
The clouds are whipped like icecream into goo
I see a dream that hangs high on a tree
A crow stands on its head, the small birds rue
~The earth seems small ,unreal yet company
God wrote us a letter,that is key
We staggered to the fire,we burned with glee
The clouds disguise the sin of our envy
The dying god hangs through eternity
Shall he be raised, shall we his promise see?
The earth seems small and humble company
Oh, do not let us kill the sacred tree
Fragmented it wlll split the Trinity
The clouds are beads upon a rosary
The Cross beseeches.words are heresy
This is a very old article in the Guardian newspaper
But it seems we’re still in the same situation of trying to be happy all the time or as much as possible
Where are you going this morning, Mary enquired her best friend Annie.
?
I’m going to take “The mathematical l experience” to Jane’s house. I’m giving it to her daughter
How can you take an experience round someone’s house?
Well all your experiences have made you into the person that you are and so they’re always with you wherever you may go. But this one is actually a book. I think Jane’s daughter will enjoy it. Maths degrees can be very boring when they do not discuss history or social context.
Well it would be no good to me, said Annie unless someone like E Nesbitt rewrote it for children the way she did Shakespeare’s Plays. Maybe set it to music
I think E Nesbit is dead but it would be wonderful if someone could do that. What source of music would it be? Possibly something like Stravinsky
Now what shall I wear ?
Mary donned a pair of thick trousers but they seemed very tight .
Have I put weight on, she murmured confusedly?
No those are leggings, they must be winter leggings. You can’t go outside in those. Not unless you want to be an object of hilarity and scorn
Why n?
They show that your knee has collapsed which is not a pretty sight and also they may be too clinging around your female organs.
I wonder what the difference is between being clinging and too clinging?
It needs the expert eye of a woman who loves clothes.
Suppose I wear a very long jumper over the top Mary replied plaintively.
Well lt won’t hide your knee but then who is going to look at you now? I suppose someone might look at your face my
Only a very old partially sighted man would look at me now I suppose Mary replied feverishly
Maybe a horrible neighbour will notice and pass a remark
Mary told her we can’t live our lives trying to escape the rude remarks of horrible neighbours. In any case it’s all in our paranoid imaginations. Everyone is through caught up in their own thoughts to notice these details
Anyway stop talking I’m getting tired.
That’s the trouble with being old Annie replied. Nearly everything is too tiring whether it’s talking
getting dressed or washed. Or especially vacuuming the house and garden
Not to mention the pavement and the roof.
Mary gently picked up the mathematicak experience from the table in the hall
She went outside and across the road to where her neighbors Jane lived.
Hello Jane. I have brought a book for Rosa.
Jane looked at the book and said that’s very kind of you Mary but Rosa has decided to change to social work.
That’s a big leap from mathematics said Mary randomly
Well Rosa is concerned at the state of the world and she was trying to escape by going into the world of mathematics but unfortunately it didn’t work for mainly because she’s never been very good at mathematics but also it seems inhuma to spend all day with numbers and symbols.
So now she wants to help people who are suffering as they’re always on her mind anyway.
Wow said Mary she must be a very thoughtful intelligent girl with a very kind heart
Come in said Jane and Mary went in followed by Emile her little cat
Hello Rosa she cried I brought your book but your mother says you are no longer doing mathematics. Would you like me to get you something by Richard Hoggart ?
I’d love to read The uses of literacy the teenager replied sumnily. No one will write a book like that now.
I’m sure I can get a copy on eBay Mary told her ignorantly; that’s where I got this mathematical experience book.
You can take this anyway because you might keep mathematics as a hobby.
Thank you very much Rosa replied people it may help me to understand why otherwise sane people go to university to study mathematics.
Archimedes didn’t go to university, said Emile the cat. Then nearly everything that’s been invented was not invented in a university and maybe that’s the problem of our time. By the way how did you teach your cat to talk?
We didn’t teach him to talk and the vet says it’s probably genetic
One of his ancestors must have been able to speak English and he has inherited it although listening to the conversations between me and my husband Stan might have helped him.
Yes it did the cat informs them and I miss Stan very much. I pray for him every night in front of that statue in the living room
That’snot the statue of God it’s a sculpture by a woman from Suffolk.
Well it looks like God to me, Emile replied. He just gazed admiringly at the mantle piece where the sculpture of a tiger sat.
But surely if that was the god that Jesus was preaching about God would not have appeared as a tiger.
No God may have been quite gentle then but since the 20th century and the 21st century his
It’s brought out the more aggressive and destructive side of his nature.
How can you talk about God like that?
I just open my mouth and it comes out.
Surely way ought to have a gate on our lips
And so ought all of us
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Rain and shadowed clouds would suit our mood
When we are the warp without the weft
As if we are the pen and no ink’s left
As if we hunger yet there is no food
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Our mind slows down and all we do is drift
Evil thoughts into the soul intrude
Like we are the warp without the weft
Let the eye and all its muscles rest
With wider focus we may cease to brood
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Do not try with will power nor it test
Relaxation brings back knowledge of the good
We take it in like babies at the breast
We must not test the will but let it go
Trust the ocean and eternal flow
Sometimes sunshine makes us feel bereft
Sometimes sunshine brings its golden gifts
Trump will win the war, he’s very sure.
He’s got the biggest bombers ever seen
For everything that’s wrong, a bomb’s the cure
Trump will win the war he’s very sure.
And of Iranian people, there’ll be fewer.
Fire the bullets now, death is the cure
Bomb their whole world flat while babies scream
Trump will win the war, he’s very clear.
See him grinning now on all your screens.
Town centre
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57615/logic-56d23b4c891a9
Scattered pools of rainwater gleam on the dark paving stones
The road disappears under an arch
A family approach smiling : conversation occurs
The dog jumps with delight
By the river, a cat hides looking for water rats on the bank
The terraced houses by the water look contented and prosperous
The third one has new curtains.
A man walks by seeming nervous, nothing to do on Sunday.
Turning the other way I see the huge tree by the large end house
Then a sharp turn on to the bridge
Small bridges here remind me of Thames bridges
These are secret hidden and beautiful like little treasures.
Here comes someone on a bicycle better step back.
Now we walk towards the pub with another bridge in front
But I forgot, you are not here. The last time I drank grapefruit juice.
I have not had any since then.
Last night I dreamed I was in the garden with a big hedge on my right
The shrubs were leafless and as I pressed my ear against them I could hear laughter and I knew that it was you.
The secret garden that we never enter
Then you cried hello hello. You sounded merry
That was a small heaven
And always the river flows down the contour lines as it was designed.
And the people change but everything is still the same
Norman MacCaig at 80: None a Stranger: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b00w003d via @bbciplayer
Oh either sighed the river lyre or long fields of curly and of bye, That tell the told and right the wry; And though they yield, the toad runs by
To its sandy, dried alloy
The hallowed siege by water pulley
The clean and unsheathed bread knife dally Shambled on her daughter’s lily Round about a dot
Pillows whiten, aspirins shiver. The sun-famed showers broke a willy.
In the stream that runneth weather By the island in the river
Flowing down the Com and dot
Four gay wails, and four gay hours
Underlook a spice of dowers,
And the silent isle implored
The Lady of NottNott Underneath the bearded charlie, The reaper, reaping slate and silver,
Fears her ever wanting cheery, Like an angel, ringing early,
O’er the cells of Camelot.
Beguiles the leaves in furrows hairy,
Beneath the loon, the reaper teary Listening whispers, ‘ ‘Tis our Mary, Lady of NottNott’
The little isle is all entailed
With hose-pants, overtly tail’d
With roses: by the barge unhail’d The shallop flitteth silken sail’d,
Skimming down to What is Nott
A pearl garland signs her screed: She leaneth on a velvet bead,
Pull loyally unapparelled,
The Lady of Whats Hott..
No time hath she to court a nerd: By charmed fib she seized her bird
A purse is on her, if she’ll gray
Her leaving, oversight or pay, To sulk more down on Whatt is Knott She knows not what the hearse may be;
Therefore she leaveth stealthily, Therefore no other bear, hath she, The Lady of TopKnott
She lives with little boys who play.
With her daughter, running here,
The cheap cell tinkles in her ear. Before her sings a mirror clear, Reflecting hours in CamAlot.
And as in the internet she whirls,
She sees the surly pillage hurled,
And the wed oaks of driven earls Passed to cloud from NottAlott. Sometimes a ship of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling dog, Sometimes a curly shepherd bad, Or long-hair’d rage in crimson bled, Goes by tower’d Cameuplot:
And sometimes thro’ the mirror blue
The night comes guiding two by two:
She hath no cool old knight it’s true,
The Bath of old Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
Sees the mirror’s magic bytes,
For often thro’ the silent fights A funeral plumed with traffic lights And loose it came to Blamelot: Or when the moon was overheard Came two young lovers lately wired;
‘I am half sick, to shadows wed
The Lady lost her Plot
I’ve not got dementia but my spelling and grammar may I feel like that because I have to dictate it because my vision is not good and my hands are painful hands. I can only
do it on my phone now
This morning I spent a long time filling in a questionnaire from a major London Hospital where I’m going to have surgery.
There were nine pages beginning with assessing your heart health.
Each page that up to 9 questions on it so there are quite a lot. I had to ring the British heart Foundation to get some information
About halfway through came the brain and the nervous system
And one of the questions was
Do you have dementia?
How on earth would you have got to that point when it’s involved answering about 30 questions about other organs of your body?
Would it not make more sense to ask patience on page one whether they’ve got dementia?
They also s want us to list all medication. If you have dementia that will probably be very difficult and most likely some of it will be wrong with any of us because we’re all challenged by cognitive decline boredom impatience and rage. We didn’t live all these years to have the world in the current situation where mad men can start wars on a whim.
It would be so much quicker to do it in person with a doctor or a nurse. I realised thats ambiguous.
I don’t think Donald Trump would take the advice of a doctor or nurse about starting a war
Why is everything being done by remote means when the pandemic is over?
Don’t they realise that it’s much harder to cope with illness and surgery when you never see the doctors and you won’t see the surgeon as you will be unconscious. Well that’s the intention anyway.
I’m really looking forward to being unconscious as I’ve been on this track since September 2025 and it was March 2026 before I got a CT scan.
Because of the illness I am very exhausted most of the time it’s not a lot of fun.
And there must be thousands of people like me all over the country.
I told them at the beginning
Just take the damn thing out.
I feel very sorry for my kidney but it’s causing me a lot of trouble and unfortunately I can’t take it out myself.
How to look and be Bringlish
If you go to a friend’s for supper, never take a bottle of water or wine.Never turn water into wine and never get shrunk even if he is a psychoanalyst
Wash your clothes but don’t iron them
Go out in only a T shirt and jeans at night in winter.
Go to A and E as much as you can except when you have acute coronary syndrome or sepsis
Old grey /beige anoraks look good on most “English” people
Never wear a red hat.They might think you are Father Christmas
Wear skirts that show your thighs off or leggings that show everything off.Saves men buying soft porn.But do not charge.
Do wear crop tops and low rise jeans especially in winter.
Jeans with rips are perfect for old ladies.Rip them yourself.
[Teach Yourself How to Rend your Garments £4.99 my e book’]
Wear thick padded down coats in the summer.
Never wear a summer dress unless you are a man
Never wear petticoats and other lingerie unless you are a man
Wear a T shirt saying: Anti-Semitic, moi? while touring Oxford looking for pubs
Wear a T shirt saying: Belgians, go back to Congo..
Wear a T shirt saying: Take that French Leave now
Wear a T shirt saying: No sprechen Sie Deutsch/Believe me.Nein.Ten,When?
Wear a T shirt saying: I feel Rubbish/I feel your pane/I just feel you.
Wear a T shirt that says :I Luv money/I have an oyster card/I have no bike to get on.
Wear a T shirt saying: I want leave to commit crime/I want Remain to leave./I want leave to Remain.
Wear a T shirt that says: Educated in Burton, can’t spell
Wear a T shirt saying: Och aye, President Rump!
Make sure your hair is exposed— both head and pubic.
I don’t understand either but they keep saying, where are you from?
I say, here. But somehow they don’t believe me.Yet.
I am getting my T shirt tomorrow.It says: I’m a Viking and I don’t care.What’s your problem?
When Moses climbed the mountain
And he got to the top,
God was waiting for him,
He didn’t say a lot.
He said, Take my commandments
They are written on this stone,
I have only fifty,
Or was it fifty one?
Moses was very worried
~about the human race.
Fifty one commandments
Would meet with strong distaste.
So he told God his troubles
And God thought long and hard.
He came back with the commandments
Written on a card.
How many have you got there?
Moses politely said?
I’ve got it down to ten, said God.
His eyes were very red.
So Moses took the postcard
And put it on his pad.
He said I’d better get back down.
Oh, and thank you Dad!
When Moses got to earth
He called his people near.
He produced his i Pad.
Look what I’ve got here!
I saw God on the mountain.
He gave me a few rules.
They’re easy to remember.
We are not moral fools.
How many of these rules
Has God given to you?
I got it down to ten.
Let’s see how we can do.
Ten is far too many,
Some of the people cried.
We don’t want these rules.
We hate to feel we’re tied.
But all games have their rules.
They’re what define the game.
If we had utter chaos
This loss would be a shame.
As pictures have their frames,
And lessons have strict times.
We need some good constructions,
Like poems need their rhymes.
So all his people heard him.
And they agreed to try.
They lived as best they could
Until they came to die.
But one part of this story
We will never know–
What were all those commandments
That Moses did not show?
And why did God give in
To Moses’ bargain plea?
Do not ask for Moses,
For Moses name is “ME
Near illiterate, they watch TV
Not Nigella not the BBC
They ask the educated to sink down
Come Dancing ,Benny Hill. the maddened clown
No more does learning merit due respect
Nor do they treat the erudite with tact
They do not wish to study or discuss
So any leader vicious wins the toss
Does it matter much if sights are lowered?
They felt shame at school and were ignored
They do not think they’ll benefit from books
But watch the behaviour of an errant Duke
The lack of cash,the shame, the rage, the crash
No surprise some vote for sociopaths
Aujourd’hui, nous étudions la topologie
Ça doit être bref. Et le caoutchouc Ooh, vous êtes impoli, n’êtes-vous pas Regardez, ce n’est pas un jeu de mots croisés
Non, mais vous êtes.
Vous obtenez la croix et nous avons
Qu’en est-il des mots?
Juste bourdonnement aujourd’hui. Maintenant, nous allons apprendre sur les nombres transcendantaux Vous pouvez parler mais nous ne pouvons pas apprendre Pourquoi, est-il interdit?
Non, nous sommes juste épais
Eh bien, mon QI n’a que 65 ans et pourtant j’ai un diplôme de maths D’où? Vous ne pouvez pas les acheter.
C’est ce qu’ils disent tous
Je suis un crétin, vous êtes un crétin, ils sont des crétin
Et moi? Tu es un imbécile.
Je ne suis même pas français Pourquoi avez-vous cette lettre dans votre main?
C’est un refernce de mon tuteur. “Ce garçon est tellement stupide qu’il ne peut même pas épeler Feck et il n’a jamais entendu parler de Sodome et Gomorrhe.
Eh bien E n’est pas U Sont-ils les jumeaux sur la rue Coronation
Pour l’amour de Dieu, lisez la Bible. Sera-t-il heureux? Non, mais ça t’arrêtera de parler autant.
I find I just can’t get to the bottom of you however hard I try.
Did I get my message?
Let me ask myself.
Oh.apparently I’m not in right now.
Telephones, don’t you just hate them especially the ones where they can see you?
I won’t call you Back or Front
.I can’t see you.
Don’t cry for me,I’m guaranteed to last for ages,
I tell you.
It’s conceptual poetry.
Free at the point of a knife….
the best is good enough for you… so keep looking.
And you will find her everywhere or anywhere.
Women,don’t you just love them?
So sweet,so kind, so nearly human.
Not tough enough for some
But God knows her mysterious ways.
Her wonders cause reform.
Stan woke up later than usual owing to the comfort of sleeping in his dear wife’s soft cotton nightgown.He had slept better than usual despite the police calling to question him about a nude woman found wandering in the town centre.
Women have better clothes than men,Emile, he remarked to the cat which was stretched out on the Guardian.I don’t know why I buy that paper.You couls sleep on a bath towel.
After having a shower,Stan decided to take another look at Mary’s clothes.He found a long denim skirt in indigo which he fancied would match his new T shirt.
Of course I shall only wear while I do the housework he told Emile.After all in Scotland I could wear a kilt.Can you get a denim kilt he wondered.He decided to wear underpants but not to wear Mary’ssilk petticoat.She might get angry with him.
There is a certain logic in wearing a denim skirt as it much cooler than trousers and allows easy movement.But of course one must wear decent underpants in case the wind blows under it and reveals all.That’s why women are always buying packs of pants.So Stan was thinking. and he remembered his old espadrilles which would look good.He stood in front of the mirror and imagined he looked quite fetching.
My heart is crushed like petals on the road
When spring winds blow and cars speed by like shot
The weight of caring is too hard to hold
Yet such a pastime seems to be my lot.
When buds appear I dread the frost of sin
When leaves uncurl ,I bear my breathless dream
I was not always of this mind so grim
Neither did I ponder complex schemes.
Shall I descend to ploys and plots of doom;
Wreak revenge on those who trouble me?
No,I ‘ll not give home to conquering gloom
I’ll sit it out and find what good’s for me.
My heart is crushed but I shall live again
Far from the habitat of wolf-like man.
The sun is far away and we feel low~
Like ducks that dive into the watery depths
Freezing rain has not the feel of snow
No more do living waters seem to flow
And when we kiss there’s frost upon our lips
If sun is far away , what’s our bed for?
Despair can get us in its undertow
And from our happy time we’re may be ripped
Freezing rain has not the charm of snow
Best to feed wild birds and live snail- slow
Sorrow is the parent of joy’s scripts
The sun is far away , oh deep, oh low~
But yet beneath the soil new life will grow
As the parents quarrel souls still wait
Freezing rain has not the charm of snow
Unthought babies wait for signals glow
Swiftly to the womb the souls migrate
The sun is far away and we are low
Like a tide with hidden under rips
The sea of life will take us where love’s trapped
The sun is far away ,but why feel low~?
Freezing rain will cease and life will flow
The force and beauty of the wild North Sea
The coast of Norfolk,sands so white,so free.
The grief that rips the heart out from its cave
Throws it on the sea to ride the waves
The loss of you and love and all it means
With my inner eye I see these scenes
The snow that fell on Cromer Easter Day
The lifeboat on the pier, the words to say
Ancient churches guard the holy space
And everything is right and in its place.
Eagles do not live here, but the birds
Sing from yellow gorse and know the words
What names might small birds call us as they watch?
The world is re created in a snatch.
The word gorse rhymes with norse
In 865 Ivan the Boneless a Viking invaded East Anglia His army wintered in Thetford forest before heading North where they eventually conquered York
The birds singing in the yellow gorse is a reality but it’s also reminder of the history which the birds may remember more than the humans.
Also because the birds are singing for joy and they know the words it is akin to a liturgical offering
It’s not only humans who can praise. The way that the world is at the moment it may be hard for us to do that
My wife has left me for an adverb.
I don’t know which one it is!
Is it slowly,quickly, nearly?
Life should not be like a quiz.
She told me that she “nearly” loved me,
When “dearly” was what I had hoped.
Life is full of lost illusions…
How do deserted people cope?
I think I should have kept it secret,
For now I sit and sadly grieve.
Do you think my wife is cruel?
What a strange excuse to leave!
Would she leave me for a pronoun?
Would she leave for a full stop?
Would I leave you for a quote mark?
Would I fall into a dot?
Come back,darling for I love you.
I have learned I must take care.
I will go for grammar lessons.
I am sure I can learn flair!
We can write a poem together,
You can choose the topic,dear.
I will hold my pen and write for
They say true love drives out fear.
Did I fear her? Did I love her?
Was she worthy of my heart?
Did she dislike my hairy nostrils?
Was that why we had to part?
Come back Mary,come back Mavis.
Come back Sunny, come back Sue
Without my wife I feel quite lonely.
What is a poor man to do?
I admit I was unfaithful.
God made men to procreate.
Yet I loved my wife the best…
And how I loved her homemade cake
No need to search in foreign parts
Find foreign places in the heart
By grief we’re thrown off usual roads
Do not desert us from your hold
We have no maps, we fear our friends
Into the suffering we descend.
Our children once sat at our knee
Now the parent they must be.
Some groan and rage for their own loss
Through wild places all must cross
Some may fall and be helped up
As we share the bitter cup
We must drink it to the dregs
As we walk on ancient legs.
Do not shun us when we grieve.
Our maps are ripped yet we must leave
We face again the unknown heart
Of which we only know a part
No package holiday, no deal
We’re on our own how raw we feel.
Though every single human heart
With grief and pain will surely smart
Would you wish to be a stone?
If you have love then you will moan
Evoking the beauty og stars far away,
I like to watch geese at the end of the day. Patterns and poems disclose other worlds.
Feel the hand of a baby with the fingers all curled See the trust and the smile when the mother is home,
To create entire worlds for the one she has borne.
For chaos and panic are not far away
Even in adults who don’t care to say.
The little hands touch me so deeply, so well;
⁰ How come the world is diving to hell?
How can we kill little wains by the score
Was it for this that I opened your door?
Was it for this that love electrified us,
And we were lost in each other, in the holy white dove.
Was it for war that we gave love our wombs.
Making more soldiers and filling more tombs
The bombs are a-loading they’re having parades. It’s not North Korea, it’s Washington, dude.
Let the tanks roll on Corrie and the Bedouin tribes
Let the allies laugh blindly as the Lord Jesus dies.
O take me, dear mother.Please take me away
I can’t see the point in saying my prayers.
The leaders’ religions are making God frown.
The desert is empty, the tents all dragged down. The centuries of living so free , so mobile;
The holy land blessing as they pause for while.
The little black tents like wombs of the night
Are all gone to shredders as we sing, Silent Night.
In the desert grey I walked alone
I was great with child, my heart a stone.
Betrayed by love, who can we trust again?
0 God protect us from the wiles of Man
The pains of birth are easy to detect.
The grief and sorrow made my womb contract
Here there is a doctor dressed in black
He has no face, no courtesy no tact
My baby dies, the father is a lack
The doctor throws my baby on a pile
Babies, children killed without a trial.
Hitler’s still around disguised, I’m cold.
Evil runs the world, so mad so bold
I know I too will die unless I leave
Postpartum grief so rarely will deceive
But when I gaze upon his holy face
My baby smiles and waits for my embrace.
Even here in hell there is some good
In the muck and dust of human blood
I do not know where I can walk from here
I walk into the darkness with him near.
Sad and lonely, yet I must go on
I must not fail until my life is done
In my dream, I gave birth to a child
The doctor said that he would die quite soon
My feelings overwhelming made me wild
The Nazi doctor threw him on a pile
I lay nearby unmoving as I keened
In my dream,I gave birth to a child
A week passed by,I knew that death beguiled
Frozen lips made no sound, song or tune
My feelings overwhelming made me wild
I had to rise and say my black goodbye.
My baby with the others;horror loomed
In my dream I gave birth to a child
I picked him up , when suddenly he smiled
I held him to my breast, my songs I crooned
My feelings overwhelming drove me wild
I had to carry him, the landscape gloom
A desert grey aand rocky like some moon
In my dream I gave birth to a child
In terror I had walked yet love consoled
Avocado stare with prophecy and police caution
Melon and brain salad. Fresh brains daily
Carrot and Squeak soup. Sorry we have no screams today
Battered beans all aching on fresh moans
Casserole of jam with funny broken bones .
Salmon and duck eggs in steam chamber
Cheese sauce on white mice and immigrant children. (None black yet.)
Fishcakes and celery hearts with bullet holes. Very Pretti
Vegetarian man just shot with pearl barley and foreign spices
Hot spiced police with pasta laws
Chilli thief and barmaid
Seven pear trees with roasted root canals
Icecream and sausage jelly on custard pond. Bloody Sunday
Shoulder,breast very Renee Good and sweet lamb toast with bloody butter
Crazed marauders with ginger cat, well bred. Recently shot with stolen handgun
And why not have a drink of a special coffee
Mau mau brew with apartheid screams
No torture is allowed in the coffee shop please go outside first.
How my heart speaks 