Glue you to the skies (with sugar)

You see the clock. You see the wall.
You don’t see me at all.
You say it’s time. You make the call:
 the wonderwall! Wonder! Wall!

You make it click: the clicks and the jerks.

I will glue you to the skies with sugar.
I will glue you to the skies with sugar.
I will glue you to the skies with sugar!

Have you met the Romans?

Absolution: sun-screen #2

Solitary, solitude,
cemetary, semi-nude,
dead canary, red canoe,
January, kangaroo.

Tropical fish.
Advance! Retreat!
Singular drum
stick bitter beat.

Actuary, demagogue,
 February, purple fog,
mistle-toe, a space-Cadette,
a serviette, a barking dog,
a chain-saw, a log.

The picture’s framed:
a painted coat.
The lady in red
who drained the moat. 


When I went to kindergarden,
all the other kids where there.
Oh!! I hated kindergarden. All the other kids where there.
Cold and lonely. All I wanted was was to go
home, and leave the kindergarden:
all the other kids where there.

Mustang, Oklahoma

There’s this town in Oklahoma
famous for its bad aroma,
where they closed the public library on demand.
  – Learnin’ ain’t no thing we’re needin’
    Waste away your time with readin’,
    still you only got five fingers on your hand.

Count them four times! That’s a twenty.
No more numbers, those are plenty:
You came walzin’ in on a count of three.
Our church it has a bell; a dome; a bible.
Here in Oklahoma, we keep the bible under lock and key.

From the mountain over yonder
you can see my neighbours Honda
and maybe, you could wish upon a star.
No-one here has no such longing.
As Jesus said, there is no wrong in
loving thy neighbour from afar.

Mr. Wilson

The mild rage is far closer,
the mid-term: a dark and humid night.
I’ve seen them, I’ve seen a few:
a cross-sense of ‘re-cogni’ and ‘deja-vu’.
The mid-term: a subdivided fight.

Show of hands: a sign of defeat.
Raw emotion’s demanding the raw meat.
We’ve met before, of that I’m sure.
You’re closing in – I close the door.
Jeepers, Mr Wilson, ain’t that neat?!