Short Snouts Poems

Me, the contrarian, 
	hardcore vegetarian,
Would rather eat wombat snouts
	than brussels sprouts....

Read More

All these little pale pink piggies
prancing through their straw floored pen
sniffing and snorting
with little smiles under their snouts!
Tufted, tiny tails bouncing in the air!
Sharp, dark, twinkle eyes!
Oh, can I love bacon looking
at these wee faces?!...

Read More

Bananas and bicycles
pullovers and pears
armchairs with attitude
and cutlery that cares
gum trees and giggles
seaweed and snouts 
desserts with detachment 
and porridge that pouts
mink coats and mountains
water and winks
toes with tenacity
and silence that thinks
I encounter these things 
adrift in my dreams
hugging tight
a pillow that screams....

Read More

T'was golden
T'was white
T'was beauteous bright
A squickle
A squeak
All sounding so meek
Up in the mountain top
With dew hanging like ropes
As winter hangs about
Freezing all their snouts 
But rejoice dear rodents 
For it is morning once again
And with golden summer rays
You can smile once again 
 
Date written     :23/04/2018
Date submitted :26/05/2018...

Read More

Swimming side by side in unison among red coral,
Entwining occasionally in their colourful pre-dawn dance,
A pair of small creatures resembling 
Horses of the sea 
Or perhaps Pegasuses - with pectoral fins
Rapidly fluttering like hummingbird wings -
Swirl and sometimes touch snouts, as if kissing.
Ending their ritual, the female
Spirals up out of seagrass, leaving her mate impregnated.


May 5, 2018...

Read More

News flash
Huge bash

Big fight
Last night

Clyde's Bar
Bizarre

War zone
Chairs thrown

Snouts poked
Gals choked

Eyes blacked
Ribs cracked

Hair snatched
Backs scratched

Throats slashed
Heads bashed

Tossed stools
Blood pools

Ears chewed
Tossed food

Knees kicked
Knives pricked

Low blows
Stomped toes

Dames sprawled
Cops called

Clyde's closed
Foreclosed





...

Read More

I like it when animals are 
Snouts in deep, 
rummaging through their fur,
cleaning themselves,
abruptly after meal or sleep. 
Like an old woman at a sale,
digging through a purse, 
come highwater or hell.
Remembering where they left off
by hydrosortic layer.
Making that snorting sound,
like a pig after a Truffle.
Shake like a Hen after a feather ruffle.
Then they look at you cross eyed a few seconds, 
switch positions, and breathe in,
and at it again. 
Zen...

Read More