August

the majority of the six short scrap poems below were written in july, i decided to put them up here in august and finally got around to doing so in september (where we are now).  the heat in the summer slows everything down.

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what makes less noise than a statue?:

a flat dead rabbit lying in the road,
the same one that i walked past yesterday.

“who moves dead rabbits anyway?”
“if i go past it again i’ll move it.”
“with my shoe.  or a stick.”

the third time i passed it had gone.
what makes less noise than a statue?

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tea spoon sank:

into the jar of honey the tea spoon sank
like dinosaurs and bog men and hundreds of b movies surrendered in peat.
that tea spoon had been in the family a long time, shuffled
from house to house and taken on picnics bothered by honey bees.
the handle stood pointing nearly upwards, like a wandering north pole,
like the worn moral compass of someone who abandons tea spoons
to a long, honeyed fossilisation.

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dairy:
the sun, a buttered moon.
the moon, a milky sun.
either way there’s dairy in the sky.

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lessons:

teach me a treacle tart
made of clay and spun sugar
too good for a fox’s binraid picnic.

teach me to knit spaghetti
and keep sirloin steaks warm
with jumpers, cardigans, waistcoats and tank tops.

teach me jammy yolks, astute
i want to know everything.

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challenge:

saturday morning at the recycling centre
the bottle bank is abuzz with activity
and the wasps play scrapheap challenge,
searching for sticky friday remnants.

all the wasps have beards and wear wasp boiler suits, and
a slightly famous wasp who used to be in an old wasp sitcom
asks questions and pulls funny wasp faces.

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beef / tomatoes:

“what have you got there?”
“beef tomatoes.”
“beef, tomatoes and…?”
“just beef tomatoes.”

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