coronation chicken

 I wish I was flying, screaming , in the bright sky,

Like the swifts that returned to England today.

I wish I could be anywhere far away

From a nation being forcefed until it sickens

On an unrelenting diet of coronation chicken

Glutinous golden goo, spicy thickened and sweet

Containing slimy chunks of factory farmed birdmeat.

Mother mainstream media won’t let us go hungry

We must be stuffed and stuffed again

In case we get angry

With made-up ceremonies, pomp fiction, gaudy paraphernalia

And Fawning flunkies dressed up in overpriced regalia

Glittering icing on the rich shitcake of political failure.

 

suburbsounds

 SWSSSHSSSSSSH

Hiss of heavy vehicle on wet tarmac

Climbing hill

THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD

Pile driver drives

Preparing land to build more shops,

No figures could dance to that,

Except for the ones in an accountant’s spreadsheet

YARYARYARYAR YARYAR

Crazy midnight foxcubs’ screams

Playing in their new garden of eden.

No one will hunt them here.

HAHHAHHAHAH HAH

Parakeets scream to their flock,

That an old man is filing the bird feeders.

And if the sun comes out on a weekend,

Every bastard in the street

Will start using powertools.

DRRRdrrrr DRRRRR DRRRRR DRRRRR DRRRRR

3 haiku

 

A magpie alights

On gable , flaps tail, looks, swoops down,

To green lawn. Worm ends.

 

Again, in my mirror,

Pink wrinkled caricature of

An orangutan.

 

Impatiently wait

In cold doorway for transport

Dead flies in cobweb.

sleep,

 I’ve just seen, on my computer’s screen,

A sleeping class 

Teaching me all the parts of sleep.

How deep they are

And exactly when you dive into dreams.

Sleep isn’t easy, it seems,

Yet it’s always been that way for me.

I’m out like a light, every night

Unconsciously.

I doze, drift off and sail away

As the radio plays.

I no longer hear my farts

And submit to circadian rhythms.

It would be bliss

To stay in this state

If I didn’t have to awake

At regular intervals to piss

Into a plastic bottle via a funnel

But, once bladder is voided,

Consciousness can be avoided,

I can get back on my own tube train

To go down, down, down,

The deepest tunnel

To nowhere.

flightlessness.

 Now I’m all over my avian envy,

Once I almost cried with jealously,

That I could not be

One of the

Winged creatures that flew over me.

I used to be disconsolate.

That I could not levitate.

And I cursed my creator again and again

Since I could only fly in an aeroplane.

Yet, I attained some consolation.

For my landlocked situation,

Since some birds are flightless too

Emus, rheas, penguins, cassowaries, kiwis and kakapoos.

But I derived scant comfort from that,

As I couldn’t hover over the world below;

I had no wings to flap or glide,

Which used to eat me up inside.

But now I know it’s far too late,

I must accept my earthbound fate.

Descending with wingsuit or parachute

Would never be a substitute.

It would be appalling.,

It would just be modified falling

So, I must await future rebirth,

And just be judged for my worth,

Or worthlessness

Until then I accept

My flightlessness.