LONDON…
April 28, 2019
By this guy (grown old):
dochorton - at - live - dot - com
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RANDOM POEM BY TEEN #poetry #dada june – june wobbles apace with savage lips my soul to disembowel – oh crafty june i spurn thee in thy greenest mood hell is my comfort
POEM WITH ZAPPER #poetry #dada I’ll write a poem today to rhyme in the usual way I’ll end with a capper an odd little zapper Oh, how the moon clenches its fist!
5 of 5 stars to The Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston goodreads.com/review/show/43…
you ask, am I holding a turkey leg between my knees? Am I making you nervous, MISTER ALFRED CARBUNCLE!?” “All right! All right! I confess! I did it! Guns, ammo, cheese and everything! I can’t take any more, I tell you! I can’t! I can’t! HAHAHAHAHA!!”
and erudition, notwithstanding. Second, the footprint in the bacon grease spread on the parlor floor was not a footprint at all, necessarily. It might have been, and in fact was, a cry for help. Thirdly, and I cannot emphasize this, so I won’t. Fourthly and fifth, why,
here … Wait, sorry, I’ll go again from ‘yours truly’ … yours truly, Detective Inspector Sir Reverend Urquhar Peabody, BFD. Firstly, concerning the sheep, I realized at once that the handwriting on the critical note could not have been forged by a ruminant, of whatever breeding
THANKSGIVING SPEECH #Thanksgiving “You’re probably bewildered as to why I’m gathered here. In short, that is to say, in summary, I put it to all of you on equal, if not harmonious, footing, that the murderer is about to be revealed by none other than me, yours truly, speak name
4 of 5 stars to Figgs & Phantoms by Ellen Raskin goodreads.com/review/show/43…
THE EVILEST ROBOT - A POEM #poetry #whimsy the evilest robot of them all isn’t so very awfully tall but there never is the slightest doubt at the droop of an eyelid your spleen’s ripped out pic.twitter.com/iglyF5PAUM
5 of 5 stars to The Living Mountain by Nan Shepherd goodreads.com/review/show/43…
3 of 5 stars to London Fields by Martin Amis goodreads.com/review/show/43…
She tamed a wild beast under the sky. What beast? Why beast? You ask. I reply. What beast? Why beast? Of course, it was I.
and one of her bloodstained tooth sharpening files. Don’t believe for a second I have one regret. For you see, when I’m aided, I never forget. Penelope did me the greatest of boons one night by the light of the brightest of moons. Oh, what did she do? You ask. I reply.
VISITING THE GOBLIN WITCH #fairytaletuesday Whenever I visit the goblin witch on the bank of the stream where she lives ‘neath a tree I bring an assortment of her favorite treats like mud sludge and pond scum and rotten black beets. For this I’m rewarded with one of her smiles
A VERY TINY POEM INDEED #poetry #whimsy the subatomic particle according to this article foundered in a bowl of new mown hay how they ever knew is a puzzle, it is true and will bother me all throughout the day
4 of 5 stars to Silent Spring by Rachel Carson goodreads.com/review/show/43…
GRAND PRIZE WINNER - EASY AFFECTION - BIG SISTER/LITTLE BROTHER DIVISION #astaires pic.twitter.com/yQeIugLP3S
QUAKIATL #poetry #whimsy when posing as a perfume bottle the aztec princess quakiatl wondered if she’d been that sage to pursue a life upon the stage pic.twitter.com/X30koDWiQP
THE REBELLIOUS SONGWRITER'S MANIFESTO #poetry #whimsy i refuse to rhyme june with that night sky disc or that other word for melody i won’t do it
@selfstyledsiren @JamesWolcott Daddy Wouldn't Buy Me A Bowwow is my go to song for my grandchildren.
BAD POEM #poetry #whimsy i linger longly low and loud beside the savage cloud enervated i reap dragons to haul away in fiery wagons alas my heart it sticks the candles have no wicks
A POEM NOT VERY MUCH ABOUT EGGS #poetry #whimsy #dada sliced loaf of jam the carpenter roams restless her hammer is tempered in rendered lard (eggs) i wept when the chimney collapsed and sent chimney shards hurtling into alvin
NEWS #poetry #whimsy Larks perch upon my pillowcase. Eels occupy my shoes. I’ve nothing further to report. There is no other news.
drew a line through the item at the top of her list and read the next entry. She nodded. She had plenty of time to get a bite to eat before the next job interview.
question and began blinking her left eye only, a nervous trait of hers dating back weeks. The silence was sinister. Belle, nearly fainting, decided it must be broken. So she threw her magic charm into the beast’s face and fled the castle. In the forest, with trembling hand she
asked the beast. ‘That’s right, …’ Belle began, utterly unable to decide between ‘Sir’ and ‘Ma’am’ for a crucial moment before dribbling, ‘Your Readiness.’ Inwardly cursing herself, Your Readiness? YOUR READINESS? What does that even mean? IDIOT!, Belle failed to hear the next
THE TAME BUFFALO POEM #poetry #whimsy tame buffalo wallow well, my own, my true snort the fingers of the land pry at the heart mist sorrow strangled chimes
3 of 5 stars to The Lost World by Michael Crichton goodreads.com/review/show/43…
@selfstyledsiren @scott_tobias He's more of a coup sloth. Coup otters are too lively and quick.
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