
souf coas laid back homespun rhyme style hardened, fired and top like rooftile charcoal makers butchers and bakers dance to this muthafucking music we makers woodmen good men shep-herds and sheep-hounds trance in the muddy puddle pit of the pigpound so flip frown, mucka, go get a round. and get drowned. with outta town clowns…

when i walked out one rainy grey midsummers morning i planned to walk to lunnun town that city so alluring i got my geese some tarmac shoes to lead us to temptation or to take us up to high barnett to profit from inflation i hooked a bag upon my back i cut mysel’ a…

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published fashion frosted breastplate eager added toenail seven holy oak holes threaded with a fox tail slumming like a Richepigg broken oily fishstick wrestle training underground ezra thor and thunder pound arse hole bum hole arse eye shit hole eye brown itch bitch ripped raw…

me dog walk down old rickety lane new boots give my heelbone pain stopped short by four five live cow hobby farmer turns saying: not right now pup-dog tongue lolls, she’s intrigued dashes in dashes out, farmer’s peeved don’t want a fight so we avoid it find the stream and walk beside it sunshine breaks…

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published lying down in a room of reddish and gold another minute flies off another minute old chest is hollow like a birdcage cathedral in a desertside town and the sign says sold reddish and gold room seacity view hurricane stormbrew blacks turn blue floods…

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published alarm at 9:30, wake at 8:30, stretch in bed, go downstairs to kitchen, make omelette, give a quarter to a friend, eat the rest, alarm sounds, cycle to uni, shuffle the word order of an essay, print it, fuck around, go to the bar,…

through forests and fogs through thickets and thin i trek through the country to get to the din but when i get to the club they don’t let me in cos i take the wrong drug and i don’t want to sing for my supper or a beer from a big bouncer thug but i…

the waters in their wild course warned me; begins the book of history snakes and dragons sit upon the floodland lowlanders are living in the trees highlanders have taken to the uplands digging out the mountains to make caves the birds and beasts and savage dangerous creatures are constricted to the land above the waves…

choose a browning stunted treeplace a ring of weeds therebless it as it rots and dieswatch the burrs shoot out and risebeautifragilous tree stalk caught in the windthe wind’ll knock you over if you stand too thinthe ground will eat you up if the wind dies downthe tree stalk shivered as the sunshine grinnedhow can…

i like that loosely falling hair lightly tucked behind the ear that makes the wind seem so severe in the early morning light i like that pretty pointed finger maybe pointing at a thing or maybe heavy with a ring like a dewy blade of grass i like that chunky laden flavour that swings about…