Why write, I ask, is it to entertain?

from a crow who could talkto a wombat who’d walkover all of the poet’s made beds.And on weekends he welcomed a manwho brought with him a stainless steel canit was full of the stuffthat is made for the toughin the morning he didn’t need bran.Mr Fittock comes every weekand without him it would be so…

You couldn’t getenough.And I of you.You held my hand.Your lashes scratched my cheeks.Bare legs were touching andthe world had gone away.You said you wantedall of me.I was so flattered.It’s yours to take,I said.Then I woke up.I’d like to dream tonight,and dream of you.Perhaps you would,my lovetell meyou will.

another year down the drain.My new toy, metallic blue, ABS,all the fruit, the salesman said,was ready and waiting insidethe warm garage, halogen eyes shut.Power everything,401 V-8,full time four wheel drive, a Jeep.Frigging holidays, always seem tofoul up the mood in this house,another storm coming tonight,and I don’t mean to talk about snow.Leave her to the…

in what they give you, for supportthe coffers of the bureaucratsand stay at home, with me?I felt a sadness on this day,St. Valentine’s has passedand there was no one you would namenor I, the world can have the brashand all the strapping boysthe dames with ponytailsand even sweet ones and their toys.I asked my Gods…

the sound of drumsand healthy tunesis just a side effect, a signand its significance benign.So let your grandpa chew his prunesbetween his battle-hardened gumshe’s left behind so many moonsand as he sits and gently hums,he feels the prunes slip down the lineuntil it’s time, for rise and shine.A poem talking of the gutswould be of…

by bold observers peeking, beyond closed lidsnor from the inside of those bible-bashing friends.Yet they are present and fulfil a noble purpose,fully respected by a man’s seedy companions,it makes a mockery of all the earnest words,as fear of God can punish not all moneychangers,and pleasant words will never soothe our wounds.And only the reflection has…