Day: May 17, 2017

The menu for today

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Menu

1.Avocado cares with free lemon juice  9/6 each
Melon and ape salad with free dressing [ elastoplast] 7/6
Marmite jelly on toes  3/6
Mock curtain  jelly 8/6
Hot carrot spook and bed roll 11/6 [no sleeping bugs]

 

2,  All £2 10 shillings and 5 pence

Lamp chops with risque chips and Brussels
Vegetarian Roast Leaf and frozen Yorks pudding.
Potato pie and  cucumber ballad
Chicken Flies with Curried Wings and Lice

3. Free:  Just desserts

Jellied blackberries and short head with stream
Plane Yoghurt and Scream
Whose Berry Fools with Lemon Noose.
Cheese and Friskies.
Celery stalks and green water cries.For vegetarians
Chocolate Mice [ real mice if the trap works]
Poison Pie with bastard

 

 

Those little commas

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All beds to be re-combusted daily.
All china to be smashed before viewers
Tea towels which fall on the floor to be awakened before use
No dogs bowed to in kitchen or hallways
Cats enter on owner’s fist or else.
Please be polit , as being alive often offends.
Do not wait too long.Hit the roof if needs be
Do not question me, if I speak Double Dutch.I am it  wielly   learning  thee slowlier than Buber.

 

Please thank  our  neighbours before screaming in bed, especially while asleep.
Please leave our grooms better than you find them.Microfibre clothes and Ajax in the wardrobe.Dusters behind the door or in the washing machine.
Remember we have no maids; please cook your own goose.Not provided.
My wife makes herself useful in the puddings as you see in our menu.No flavours
Do not giggle or gurgle while asleep as the walls are very thin.
No sex except on Sundays or, by prior arrangement, with the manager.

Did he feel his freedom was well worth 2

I read  fine books on poetry by Plath
Her genius arrived clearly, what a force….
An edgy woman emitting sharp, bright wrath

An immigrant, her German roots surpassed
Two languages  entwined, a unique voice
I read  the wanton works of Sylvia Plath

She early found her voice, direct of path
But fate was inconsistent with her choice.
Mercurial, she  troubled love with wrath

Her suicide predictable as maths;
Her suffering and her German soul  flew loose
I voiced the books of poetry by Plath

Her problem was in finding a true man
She had more faith from Ariel her horse
This vital woman, torment gave at last

Did  he feel his freedom was well worth
Hearing the electric blackbird’s  curse?
I read the brave, mad poetry of Plath
Imperious, what  vocabulary, what mass!

The Forest Door 2

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The kitchen floor was cleaner than before
The Iron Age Curtain , wall without a door.
The steam, the heat intense, un-layers.

The unconscious mind is timeless, is prepared.
How do we discover what it’s stored?
Is Britain sacred,classier than before?

All work is done by people, not by prayer.
Each nightmare spins an image from the store
The streaming media  sacrifice more players

Beforethe vote, there comes  unthought despair
To make some sense of all our hard-won lore
The government  grows stupider, devours

Men advise me not to say I’m fey
Others find  the News, continuous, bores
The steaming rage  has taken off their layers

We’d like  our politicians to endure
The economic game plan and its cure.
The  forest floor is darker than before
Woodlands wild, creative have no door

The strangled car horns, broken, debonair,

anatole-auschwitz
Worth has not anything to show more sore
Dull would she be or cold who did not rage by
The  broken nuclei in their tragedy
The pity now doth, like  a sick fog wear
The strangled  car horns, broken, debonair,
Whips, towels, combs unneutered   rumpled lie
Unroll the British shields,, we shoot to pray
All quiet yet twittering with a reckless air.
Never did cunning more evilly still creep
As our PayPal; mock not  the plastic  Bill;
Whether I was, whether I felt, a sheep asleep!
The  nerves all heat up as  Trump’s  tweets may kill;
Oh God! all their fuses  blew they’re incomplete
And all  the mighty Courts   with liars fill