Digital Futures (or why I don't like Mondays)

Frigid? Suit you sirs..
Bridget'll choose us
Rigid Al's sutures
Midget Abusers...

All them nasty, cold, hard, un-politically correct men and women who do bad stuff to small people...

Damn them all to Hell
(and clap them back)

A. Diddyman's Dreamsong number One.

shlush.

Noun, Preposition and Descriptor (NPD)

Like a snowflake in a potty
or some onions on a fire escape
or a whole life forgotten
or a really bad argument at a ferry terminal
or a city with no public toilets
or a little Skimmia bush that never grows
or a Chinese take away with smelly pork
or three pipes in a darkroom
or an in joke that died with your best mate
or piled up rubbish outside a Georgian basement flat
or Leicester City losing at home to Aston Villa
or a very old negative you remember the photograph of after you find it in your mother's garage on a cold Monday morning
or the disappointment of desertion or disinterest
or the banality of evil's face
or the familiar feeling of being right - but penniless
or seeing your children suffer because of the ghosts you never slayed
or a yellow bowl that looks like one you remember as a child
or a house you once lived in - unrecognisable
or the sound of white poplar leaves in the wind
or a dead frog in a plastic compartment box
or the next olympics
or something your grandma used to say
or shining like shit at Shelford
or ambition
or ambition's death knell
or a national insurance number card in a shoe box
or an unfired vase from Portugal:

something, somewhere, somehow...

Dining Club

Old Flat Top
Him.
A funerary procession zips by
Speeding before the corpse is loaded
with an imaginary siren screaming:
"LIVE' ("you fucking ants") LIVE..

"Anyone who has never read a poem doesn't really know what poetry is"
spake the old man before his quad bypass (successful)

Comings together have happened in many ways:
Before we invented time, it's possible to imagine
some light may have been seen over newly killed meat

Maybe less has changed than we are given to believing
or maybe much has altered and some chaps who didn't go to war
will, one day, get their invitation to the mum's formal

Vixen's dining association at Fitzwilliam?

Poultry on the menu.

Bring photos and stories to share ladies...
Muffins for the workers, maybe a chocolate brownie too.
Sarcasm, verse, the art of never reading a poem
are all qualities to be cherished at the Vixen's Dining Club

Chew, chew eyeballs, holy rollers...

A leg and a bum and a wing

I remember some of it but the best bits are all the rubbish we make up!