rhyme

Sketched Memory

I reminisce in watercolours running
as if fresh upon a new page stained
in a sketchbook I had once discarded
on a parkbench left out in the rain

those memories I painted with such nuance
now with each raindrop lose some line or form
like the years passed by as scattered pages
from forgotten sketchbooks roughly torn.

THREE UNFINISHED BATHROOM PIECES (HASTILY TAPED TOGETHER IN THE FASHION OF SIDE 2 OF ABBEY ROAD, A LONG PLAYING RECORD BY THE POPULAR LIVERPOOL BEAT COMBO THE BEATLES)

Oh magic mirror on the wall
are you that magic after all?
I ask you questions every day
you never have a thing to say.

I lost time
attempting to recreate
the clockwise
Coriolis effect
in my plughole
I’m sure I witnessed
during my shower
this morning
and settled on
the thoughts
of tailors in
Australia
and inside legs
and has the
world tripped over?

If I had a bag of sherbet dip
big enough to sleep in
I’d want you as my lollipop
if you were up for lickin’
You could be my dib-dab
sweet as sweet could be
all sugared up from tip to toe
a candy treat for me.