Wonky Perfection

My right brow soars As the left falls flat deflated. My left eye winks Whilst its partner stares immobile. My right lip sinks As the left-twin gloats ecstatic. My left jowl sags Whilst its sibling lifts delighted. My shoulder shrugs and swipes my right ear, As my hat fuzzes and free-falls to my left.  Continue reading “Wonky Perfection”

The Stand

    Golden locks matted and mounted upon an upturned tripod. Remnants of a life lived, displaying itself on the belly of a monster desperate for survival, desperate for another chance at living, dancing, twirling – desperate for just one more spin. Just one more stand. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2018

Sagging Rear

Rear hanging in the balance, sagging through the split panels of a garden perch stuck, unliftable, wedged in and permanently planted and fused into an in-law’s trunk. A family tree conjoined – sprouting. Copyright of text & photography owned by Jay Cool, June 2018

Mind the Gap

White-gloved, a flower head beckons and directs me towards the     gap. I look and I don’t mind the gap don’t mind being directed, bossed at, waved over, and persuaded by the delicate, by the fragile, by a neck condemned by one sweep of a gentle breeze to follow, to fall-flow, and to bleedContinue reading “Mind the Gap”


Deprived of roots, she lets her hair loose, shakes it down over roofs and doorways to other people’s mocked-up hovels. Homes without foundations, plastic walls floating – on clogged-up clay. Chalked-up purples and felt-tipped reds clamour for a hold, reaching up to tug down on strands of twisted cells – on tangled death – wanting,Continue reading “Rooted”

Hot Heather

Purple. A girl named Heather. A fine lady, dressed in purple silk, skirts stretched over the wire frame of a lampshade. A fit lady, lit from within. Fit for one’s bottom, and fit for display, but not fit for its purpose. The fine-fit lady, wired up and lit up, is hot. Hot, she bursts intoContinue reading “Hot Heather”

The Laughing Barnacles

An inspirational garden scene! Renewed by seaweed cloak, I gallop out from inland home, determined and brave, and seeking to find, the coast, the home of my barnacle ancestors, and my old friend, my fellow Salopian – Darwin. But, I’m held back, my path barred by a washing line, and no feet, no mare toContinue reading “The Laughing Barnacles”

Lady Bluebeard

  Bluebearded Iris, courtesy of Pixabay.com Swishing and swiping, my sword serves me well. Bluebeard, they call me – Lady of the swamps. With my parrot on my shoulder, I rise up from the peat, more black than blue – complete with tattoo! Copyright owned by Jay Cool, June 2018 (ex Fen dweller)    Continue reading “Lady Bluebeard”