that day
the policeman was in a jolly mood
he sang on the job as he gunned people down
listen to his out of tune song while
cocking aiming firing his machine pistol
emptying the clip into running screaming people
reloading doing it again for he had ten clips
each of thirty two nine millimetre slugs
zipping zapping into people thud thud
the roar of his sub gun echoing about
quick call the cops there’s a mad man here!
oh he is a cop who’s just robbed a bank
plugged the teller thru the heart stone cold dead
studded the manager across the chest
all for a bag of gold sovereigns in his shirt
look how he stops to light a joint
deeply inhaling the weed with a smile
then opening fire into store windows
at terrified people hiding inside
who if they live will never forget
the mad singing shooting cop
who broke a dozen laws that day
Fully dropped partridge. Snowing in circles then? Interesting how a sparrow can use a spade but not a fork. And how amazing is it to whirl around and around in a barrel of sharks. Yes. It is to be said that nine times a heifer is a load of sugar lumps in a line. Rotating. Rotunda. Crazy crossing creations causing charmed cream. And a spirited spritely whale is not a light bulb glow or is it a left over luggage sign! Turntables taking trellises. Great. And an injection of interference os a ninety thousand pound bottle of wine spinning in a cloud or a solar system. Clap that then. But applause is for apples. Carry with care from grocers. And oh look the shiny sink is sparkling with wisdom and wit. For it is a carrier pigeon that sits in a pigeon hole. Wow. Wonderful wandering weave. Ha ha x and a large z too. Hypothetical Z
Rabbits at junctions are often akin to moons at traffic lights. A light lunch is preferable to a whisky scone when taking a picnic to a lake. But playlists can play so font argue with a flamed fortress of fig. Tailoring a suit for a nine foot bead and dazzling s crowd with a one millimetre tiara is not a sound judgment for a counting ball. 1 2 3 then. Radio that on a one kilometre hand held microphone. Hahahahaha the skipping rope is jumping in a hula hoop today. Lovely. It is not the way of the feathered cloud to land in a field fuelled upside-down but a gridlocked four dimensional satanic bowler hat can swim many acres in a spotted swimsuit. Good. Underpasses underwater underground undertake uniquely unequal unisons. And a proxy is neither productive nor normal. Statutory static authorisational code bringing wine to a ball room. Fantastic news for the pillar. Geranium gathering giblets. And a pie. Wow. Xxxxx destitution demon demonstrated dogmatic dramas digging. Xxxxxx counter intelligence and no matter. Xxxxx miscommunication Z
Drops of sweat slip from my furrowed brow
Eyes squint, select a number and let fly now
Miss again, a millimetre is a mile once more
Aimed for triple twenty, only got double four
The walk of shame, my oh so familiar friend
Silence broken, on alcohol I forever depend
The steel point of eyes bore into my neck
My opponent leaves me a juddering wreck
I lose the match; the wife won’t give me a kiss
I wish I could have been anything else than this...
To be left alone
to be a cat
a porcelain memento on the mantelshelf
unnoticed un-thought-of even un-heeded
till a hand accidentally stretches
to caress the China paw of a line
all tucked in
out of a Federer need to be willingly unobtrusive
knowing the place of the homely cat
that’s fed as a pet
for the well-being of the spectator
in polite chaste drawing-room court
To take him à rebrousse-poil
and the pretty picture is shattered
canine claws unfurl drawn in offence
the conquering hargne of a Djokovic
the pounce leap and tumble
on the millimetre of the angular line
of brazen self-righteous discomfort
and desire becomes a clay cat
baking in the womb of the mantelpiece
under a creaking crumbling lintel
Revised from a 1986 poem : « Cat on the Mantelshelf »
© T.Wignesan 1986/2012
If i could have your arms as a pillow, i would bring it everywhere, even on the bus. I would
wrap it around me if i was cold. I would put half of it on my shoulders if i was at the cinema.
I would put them behind me if i was looking at the sea, and make it squeeze around my
stomach until i felt you in my bellybutton.
I want to sit under a blossom tree with the sun coming through in little streams.
Only with you.
I want to be a fish gliding through your veins, come out of your mouth and kiss every
millimetre of your lips.
I want to watch every breathtaking sunrise come up from behid your face. See your eyes
glisen, with morning moisture and yellow light.
I want to sit infront of the painting 'scream' for five hundred hours, so when i look at you
you would be even more beautiful.
I would make your hair a hat and in the morning i would run it through my fingers, i would
drag it up my stomach and around my chest and have it entwine with mine, resting near my
nose and stay like that until your smell was gone.
I want you to always be happy. Your heart shimmers in your eyes. When it is not there,
neither am i.