Zoo for You

I need a massive elephant to hold my love for you,
let’s face it to be barking frank I need a full on zoo.
I’ll bring some pretty penguins and a dolphin and a duck,
to quack about the way I feel, I can’t believe my –

look

to do you justice honey bee, I’ll ask a roaring lion,
and forty furry monkeys and a snake I can rely on.
There’s room for rhinos, heffalumps and owls in a bush,
and huge orang-utans and spiky whatsits we can’t –

touch

I’ll introduce a growling thing with teeth and not much hair,
but keep it well away from meerkats, other cats and bear.
The dolphins all will do a flip, the seals will throw their fish,
when love’s humungous tiger grabs your collar for a –

kiss.

Winter Chill

The grandfather clock coughs

and then they are all at it,

armchairs belch their stuffing,

tables drop all their leaves, cushions deflate.

.

The radiator complains of a temperature;

the bed winces when I lie on it, so

I perch near the moaning fish tank

watching eczema paint peel from sore throat walls.

.

Later, I grab my guitar, but it winges and slides

out of tune with the day,

offending the aching ears of the television

which begs me to turn the sound down

real low.

Frankly bizarre

I bought some bananas and also some fish,

and I put my bananas in a pretty pink dish;

then I named all my fish: Cedric, Gertrude and Frank,

and sent them to swim in a sizeable tank.

x

In the evening I sat there and ate some bananas,

contemplating my fish in my comfy pyjamas;

they were pearly and pretty and orange and cute,

and I wondered if rosy barb fish would eat fruit.

x

Sometime later I wended upstairs to my bed,

washed my face, cleaned my teeth, took a tablet and read;

then I switched off the light and I fell into sleep,

and I dreamed of  great seascapes and fish of the deep.

x

But one of my fishes got lost late last night,

he was there up till bed-time and looked quite all right;

the other fish seem to be awfully upset,

they are swimming round backwards and not all that wet.

x

I don’t understand where my fish, Frank, can be,

it would have been different if he lived in the sea;

he could have explored, found a cave and got curious,

and met with his God Parents, Doris and Nereus.

x

But here, in my house, life is normal and tame,

nothing out of the ordinary happening again;

so all I can think must have happened to Frank,

is he ate my bananas, exploded and sank!

Big Foot

It paid no respect, would

not do as we said, just

kept jumping around, as if

beans worked its head. It

was only a toy, but

it thought it was real, and

was acting as though it

could think, grow and feel. We

didn’t quite know what

its next move would be if

we told it to go, so

we asked it for tea. Now it

sits down for meals, though

we know it can’t eat, but

I guess we’re quite fond of

the thing with big feet.

Rain

Whisky skies split splashing us to work
purposely bursting sandbagged streets
drenching pigeons grounded in the downpour
spilling the bellies of belching grids
riotous rivulets racing buses like babbling boys
in the serious city the capillary action
of wet feet escapes us from suited restraint
and umbrellas abandoned arm in arm we puddle jump.

Playtime

Ding dong the bell for crying out
loud but don’t hear reprimands half cocked
corridors run white socks falling to catch
imaginations lit like tapers ready to

come hail or shine grass cuttings or
snow girls flew out to archeologically
dig this unspoken urgency bending our
bodies into new shapes but never

did we build igloos are for boys for us no
kiss and tell you what no silly games fizzy
sweets like answers lay beneath twenty
serious minutes of comradeship and green

knees.