Feet Filling

Sound squealing into his head, drowning out all sense of self and beingness; he lies on his back, sticks his feet up and into the sound, into the squeal, seeking to fill up some of the space of sound with the bones and flesh of toes, soles, tendons and heels, that may, or may not…

Squashed In Between

At the end of the page I put my hand up and told, “I’ve finished the page, Miss! What do I do now?” “Stop shouting out!” she shouted. “And don’t ask silly questions!” So, I sat there for a while, not knowing what next to do. “Keep writing!” shouted Miss. “No-one’s told you to stop.”…

Unfathomable

‘Glass’ image courtesy of Pixabay.com Look into me and rejoice! I am like nothing you have ever fathomed – as sharp as a slosh of vodka, infused with a wonky frown. And there, from my core, gaze the bubbles of fizz; eyeballs that squint through the haze, as they hey-nonny-nonny out the depths of my…

A Bod with a Mish-Mash that’s Wrong

{Insanity given sanction by a reading of Edwards Lear’s poem ‘The Dong with a Luminous Nose’.} ‘Spheres’ image from Pixabay.com When my body does shake and my mish-mash goes pong Under the boxes of ticks and the strain, I take to the pen and I scribble all day ’bout the thoughts that take over my…