Monkey Literature

I danced slowly

2007-01-30T19:49:00.000+01:00

I danced slowly
By the horses of the twilight
Crested quietly on the greenleaved statues
On thoughts of lovers
Where farmhands lie proudly
And all the patchwork street blaze and sing

I dreamt lazily

2007-01-30T19:48:00.000+01:00

I dreamt lazily
By the cocklewomen of the truant boy
Laughing quickly on the blinded lovers
On thoughts of shame
Where lives lie proudly
And all the moonless farmhands hang and live

Poverty breaks spring.

2006-12-06T22:52:00.000+01:00

Poverty breaks spring.
Sad lemons stroke a flower.
Liquid earth stops rain.

The sleeping lives of the sea

2006-10-23T22:40:00.000+02:00

The sleeping lives of the sea
The whitewashed fishwives in flesh,
Talking by the mildly lightgrey sea
For slept tides sing
With no more cobblestreets than the skylark

The viperish lazy daybreak

2006-09-19T22:49:00.001+02:00

The viperish lazy daybreak
Burning by the twilight,
With the rarely rodgered birds

Flogging while the greenleaved undertaker
On the downy nannygoats proudly
Goes to cover against the crowblack night.

The viperish lazy daybreak

2006-09-19T22:49:00.000+02:00

The flogging bones of the seaship

2006-08-21T20:34:00.000+02:00

The flogging bones of the seaship
The thin shame in flesh,
Needling by the harshly cloudy skylark
For blazed statues dance
With no more farmhands than the rabbitcatcher

Mr Wibbler flops.

2006-08-15T00:17:00.000+02:00

Mr Wibbler flops.
Elephants poke blue rabbits.
The red clowns trip toys.
The jingles drop spoons.
A cherry paints lemonade.
The pies tinkle paint.

I blazed mildly

2006-07-24T20:26:00.000+02:00

I blazed mildly
By the blush of the skylark
Kissing harshly on the dogdayed birds
On thoughts of nannygoatsWhere horses lie slowly
And all the dewgrazed statues speak and blaze

Craven temples grunt.

2006-07-13T21:40:00.000+02:00

Craven temples grunt.
The chorus fall or gifts leap.
Balloons resonate.

So lost

2006-07-09T15:39:00.000+02:00

So lost
From floor to ceiling
My soul is a dark ploughed field
Perhaps
The shadows of the ships

I slept hazily

2006-07-02T23:17:00.000+02:00

I slept hazily
By the lives of the saucebottle
Scrubbing solemnly on the henpecked bones
On thoughts of eyes
Where street lie slowly
And all the barge-booted horses sing and burn

Fair autumn dances.

2006-07-02T23:16:00.000+02:00

Fair autumn dances.
Fortresses sing but stars wait.
The gold breasts eat love.

A moon carouses.

2006-07-02T23:15:00.000+02:00

A moon carouses.
Joy sets for the towers burn.
An ass walks therefore the arrows diminish huge poetry.

I am old and blind

2006-07-02T23:11:00.000+02:00

I am old and blind
Lo! 'tis a gala night
All my love for my sweet
Blossoms of babies
Love me at last, or if you will not

And finally he goes scrubbing

2006-07-01T12:16:00.000+02:00

And finally he goes scrubbing
Into the dumbfound eyes,
Raging while they cover
Slowly in the tear-splashed tides

And star-struck the girls of the salmon
Blaze mildly in praise of the dusk
Burning while they love
Harshly into the sixpenny street

I do not pray for peace

2006-07-01T12:14:00.000+02:00

I do not pray for peace
She must go back, she said
The arches of the red bridge
What do i owe to you
Who is the runner in the skies

As evening falls

2006-06-29T20:11:00.000+02:00

As evening falls
Over the river, on the hill
What spiteful chance steals unawares
Beautiful, tragical faces
Out of the sparkling sea
The little white prayers
Where shall i find you

If the red slayer think he slays

2006-06-29T20:08:00.000+02:00

If the red slayer think he slays
I saw him once before
I heard the wind all day
On and on
The air is like a butterfly
Why do you always stand there shivering
Yyou are clear

The henpecked warm seashore

2006-06-28T21:42:00.000+02:00

The henpecked warm seashore
Kissing by the saucebottle,
With the solemnly beef-red farmhands

Scrubbing while the playful truant boy
On the patchwork street impatiently
Goes to rave against the webfoot night.

in your flight

2006-06-28T21:10:00.000+02:00

in your flight
in may with the meek, brown eyes
melancholy days have come come
down at dawn from windless hills
he's gone there is a country full of wine
under dusky laurel
leaf while i stood listening, discreetly dumb

I was shamed slowly

2006-06-28T21:09:00.000+02:00

I was shamed slowly
By the street of the pretender
Dying heartily on the torrential kings
On thoughts of leaves
Where farmhands lie quickly
And all the seashaken salmon speak and lie

Monkey Literature

2006-06-28T21:02:00.000+02:00

I have locked in my basement a large quantity of monkeys. These monkeys have all been equipped with type writers. Here is the best of their work...

NOTE: Please don't call the RSPCA, these monkeys are kept in reasonably comfortable conditions and they seem to enjoy the hours upon hours of typing.