#93 - Tiny Giants

Gary and Standfast live on the lip of the rail bridge,
under which the Flying Scotsman passes

every 46 seconds, before fluming into a tunnel.
N gauge pedestrians cluster on the station platform;

each one comes up to their knee.
Standfast likes to lie on his side in the village,

gazing into the painted window
of the sub-post office, squinting at little boxes of Force,

black-red daubs he imagines are Mars bars.
At night, they follow the battleship grey road

up to the hillside, curl up beneath elms,
with cheeks pressed to the sunrise.

#92 - Tires That Grip Drama

Peeling down B-roads in a filched milk float
necking silver tops and yoghurt,
singing the good old songs where men were men

and goats bloated suddenly before exploding.
We hit a pheasant; it shoots a confetti of brown feathers
while expiring. OJ all round and another shanty.
Crossing the border into Surrey,
we whistle at farm girls
as they gather the mangelwurzels.
A stranger takes pot shots,
killing Peter, my dear friend.

We guzzle more yoghurts
and drive for the sunrise,
chiming like billy-o.
I can't stop crying.

#91 - Better Than First

Silver medals are chocolate wrapped in tin foil.
'42% cocoa solids,' reads Agatha,
'and a good thing too,'
biting through the sweet locus of her penultimacy.

She has a tiny bite radius.
She has the blunt and useless teeth
of an alpaca.
One day, a javelin will find her windpipe,
and for the first time,

her coach will be pleased with her result.

#90 - Discount Solutions Warehouse

She looks like the girl next door.
Next door is an empty hangar
filled with burning sex dolls.
The smell is like creosote and

the inside of tennis balls.
Sometimes I slit a tennis ball
and push in a love note
before gluing it shut.

This week, every note read:
I think of you while bleeding from the eyes -
just two of the reasons why you should marry me
x

#89 - Paddy Saves The Day

Lo! Here he comes! The ubermensch,
as sudden as a thunder clap!
With braces covering his nips
and buttocks that are fun to slap!

O, look out #oil and #gordonbrown -
it's time the people's minds were freed.
He'll tear the right wing system down
and open hearts with #vibes and #weed

So tremble fat cats, big wigs, pigs,
The day of truth cannot be far.
This humble Jesus, rolling cigs,
then breaking out some air guitar.

*sweet 12 minute solo*

#88 - The Movie Premiere

Tickets bunched in grubby mitts
and a red carpet like a lolling tongue -
these are the totems of my success.

Does THIS Answer Your Question, Jasper?
is a box office smash - so many people
go to see it that there is no projectionist
to play the film; empty aeroplanes
plunge from a violet skyline
while heart monitors echo a long, flat tone
through abandoned burns units.

I trudge through a ghost city,
no one around even to pitch
a milk bottle at my head
and call me bastard.
This trash-blown alley is a fisheye lens,
my despair comes apart like a soundstage.

#87 - Rebel Dream

Sometimes we muster by the millpond
with broomhandles, storming imaginary desert compounds,
moving room to room - everybody on the floor! -
dispatching hostiles.

We are very nice;
we pay our taxes on time and in full.
We post Christmas cards to people
who post Christmas cards back.
We hand in lost wallets
and do not expect rewards.

And sometimes,
we pretend to kick shit through society,
the Lord Mayor dropping in a geyser of ichor,
helicopters circling town hall
like fat bluebottles.