Tom Tom the piper’s son.
Check your messages . . .
And so . . . he provided a puff of smoke,
So the dragon would think one thing
It would rise up and avert its eyes  . . .
and considerately sneak back to its cave.

But no, she of the hawk-faced ministry said “No.”
And called forth the frogs, who in unison chanted, “NOOOO”
Who called forth the judge, who came out and neatly said . . . .
“Permission denied. The accused shall be returned to the jails.”
Is that what he said?
Not sure again.

The girl who moved into the flat above mine smiled at me in the hall.
She has blonde hair and a lovely streak of blue through it.

Coming, shooting from muddy waters,
 . . . numbing beauties, Luddite daughters.
Jupiter moons on a glassy night,
 . . . feathered specks on a glossy snipe,
Hatted jazz-men eat free corn,
 . . . How my girlfriend likes her porn.
Watch me feed her crocodile,
 . . . as we bleed, our love’s on trial.
Now the beetle crawls on granite,
 . . . . down the needle, towards our planet.