Published: 28 January 2026

symbolism is nothing — watch this

there’s nothing I do that makes sense
nothing I do rhymes with recompense
though the evangelist dissolve into incontinence
a deep sea diver on shore with the bends
point out the rooster that rules without hens
all I do is feather the bed and relive past tense

you cannot have it all if you haven’t got some of it
gather enough owls make yourself a parliament
go to the dentist to taste like peppermint
the absorbent flood of the impotent will only submit
when you’re the shore waiting for the tide to exhibit
all you predicted, now, predict the future and subtly twist it

easy gaze of the Sphinx belies her mighty claws
or do you prefer a 3 headed dog and their dark jaws?
we are all men and women, naked, made of straws
natural children of Mother Earth and Santa Claus
we spin in time with a machine that lets us pause
play it back, be part of the screen, drink in the applause

these words say what they say, not what I mean
no sense being a human being, every word obscene
it’s never this way when you live in a dream

easy to say, easier to get, obvious throughout
people talk big to taste new in their mouth
the lower you go, the further you go South

I understand morality runs through those swamps
so purely butterflies must operate the pumps

More Poetry:

Mom on deck

Call for Mom.
She’s needed on deck;
no one else will do.
Who could possibly replace her?
Santa Claus or God?

Epochs of taste

Paleocene had a light tawny appearance and a semi sweet palate.
Eocene was the name of donkey in a play by Sophocles that became an eponym for stink.

silver

some people say
black is the colour of chic

ode to D. H. Lawrence

this evening, my neighbour’s red brick chimney,
lit by the dying sun, glows brilliant carmine
against a pure black blue sky that penetrates my blood
and fills me with insensate ecstasy

the perfection of spring

the moment before the rain
after the garden has been planted
while children play, the air riven
with silver laughter, let them be
soon it will rain

the frequency of spring

the frequency of spring
tunes in on any radio, any
electro-static device including
the nerve network of all operating
bio-chemical self aware systems

Related

Epochs of taste

Epochs of taste

Paleocene had a light tawny appearance and a semi sweet palate.
Eocene was the name of donkey in a play by Sophocles that became an eponym for stink.

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