Strangler's Attic (triple tanka)

Once charming, now pre. 

Dicting the next passage, my

Cohabitee was

alarming me, to the point

this Arm, dressed up it's own sleeve. 

There in cussed dust, laid

under the bed, hid monsieur. 

Connoisseur of some

stagnant and dangerous thought, 

Let out on a day's reprieve. 

Needling through

the thing that lingered last, cast

there in danken fluff, 

was the glint overcoming, 

that ever enough, to leave. 

C1 B1

The crow owns the street, the one

and only cock of the Tarmac.

A fella's breathless happy with

His Mexican double twelve pack.

The shop stop 'keeper can do without 

His twopeneth or bottles back.

The price per panic in the Nisa, sees

the coughshop hipsters all on slack.

So, let's put on our spandex, stay twee

and have a little queue-up shall we?

You Don't Know What You've Got 'Till You've Not

Idiocy is catching, mate. It's everywhere. Hope

if I leave the house I won't be… how will I know?

If I'm already idiot? Gather other maybe idiots,

nuts, places safe. In a loop, a swinging parklot, a

streetfood hotspot. We'll stay close, self-lop noses

and posing truffling snouts, safe away from non-

idiots and check each others' profiles out.

Homework 🎓💬🕵🤖👻💣 Poem

"Tech Dat Deck o'Cards!"
Ivy's ghostpoker poise
wasn't holding well
The flopover mortarboard
made molarscrunch
Turns bomded
the baize & past
The Privatetick
sold speeches
down the river
& all-in
The Yellafella
was never betta
Thick

If You Want It That Way

If You Want It That Way

Yeah! 

The think tank is on three for fire,

two for desire,

The man in the RNLI suit say:

‘Lookout snout, you’re in thefuckingway’.

Stoved! The gull's headin. Apart

from the ticknicker of a presumed heart, 

he would've bandyknees, pecker. Say,

fivepound’s worth, if you weigh it that way.

In time, the rye and why

swarled the ventricles of his heart.

Ached an eye to these organmouth days. Why

oust this last mistake?

Enforce five weather, why? 

In retirement, the elders, say

at piecerate, playedfair in everyway!

Belowbelt, Ed fired. 

Aboveboard, said I. My desire

to throw the tide rightfuckin in, was livin a bit late.

Livid dictum, seemed to betheway. 

Of allus pettyband apart,

we meant to pourway these threecourse dynasties, yeah... 

Naturally two left rightover distance,

us cousins saluting the O, leaving the know, 

ledging the fight to butter me

up, but a cup, or dozen - if you want it that way.

#WorldPoetryDay2020

On this cavity day
the roof he raised
wanted fixing sharp-like.
His mouth deserted
theatre, appropriate,
as all his plays were shite.

A Flight of Tanka

Roots stop you falling

Over in gusts of mean world

Syndrome permaink

Dries home like you knew you should

Have done it over the sink