All The World Is Staged

You say potato,
but then again so do I
(except of course when abroad,
wherein they have many names
for what is after all, just a spud)
So can it be surprising
you see a step ladder
and I see a balcony,
a husting stump
for the dress rehearsal
of a Judy/Mickey musical number,
or the immovable
representation of an
existential challenge
in the story arc
of a rather bleak
and confusing
though emotionally charged
piece of Brechtian theatre?
Let’s put on a show!

Older Poems #29 : Train

I could always write on trains
they bring urgency to every word
I rattle over junctions
with ease
mysteries to solve
prove childsplay
and the destination closer
with each line,
the world flying backwards
faces and forms
met for a moment
as my mind speeds forwards
tracks forcing my perspective
to the final stop….

….all change please.


Ten Little Monkeys

Ten little monkeys
drinking barley wine
one staggered onto train tracks
and then there were nine
Nine little monkeys
in a gun control debate
one lost his head a bit
and then there were eight
Eight little monkeys
eating scones in Devon
one choked on a raisin
and then there were seven
Seven little monkeys
on the hunt for sixties chicks
One copped off with Twiggy
and then there were six
Six little monkeys
going for a drive
One picked up a dodgy hitchhiker
and then there were five
Five little monkeys
swinging on a door
one got his little fingers trapped
and then there were four
Four little monkeys
went together for a pee
one had a zipper accident
and then there were three
Three little monkeys
flinging round their poo
one had some tummy trouble
and then there were two
Two little monkeys
playing the long con
they screwed each other over
and then there was one
One little monkey
sitting in a tree
tapping out this little rhyme
as that last monkey is me.

© ml 2014