20161113

Pete Spence

While a Cello Takes a Bath.

if the dog's tail
wags any faster
will it tilt
the world enough
for sunrise to come
early?
           the seismograph
has hay fever
sneezes as pollen
fills the air
avoiding a gang
of bees
              a windsock 
replete with clouds
and biplanes
sulks on a ridge
and to think
i thought aviation
was asexual!
                      bagpipes
whittle the air
more amorous
than a toucan
on holidays
in the Hebrides 
or a piano invaded 
by white-ants
fabricating 
chop-sticks
while a cello
takes a bath
                       this
menu is like
reading Tolstoy
at page 186
the chef becomes
hysterical
the asparagus
frowns the lemons
faint the pasta
files for divorce 
                             by 
now a sweaty 
bunch of sparrows
make the afternoon
more moving
doing a stocktake
on bugs
                waist high
in waste land
a kleptomaniac
is at a loss
by an excess
of emptiness
surrounded by
some mustard
coloured sunlight
                                how
surprising
to stumble across 
a valley filled 
with umbrellas 
and no rain
in sight!
                the clouds
have gone
on strike
everything feels
and looks
like parchment


Lost Bookmark. what do you do when your bookmark is off somewhere having lunch or worse taking on someone else's chapter! or at the library where it will go insane decision making being a failing characteristic! hopefully it is sulking in the sun with a mineral water or fallen headline over footnote for another bookmark!
Soup of the Day. meaning to eat and humour the pie not to let it go before it is gone the freshly baked search party takes a break sharing the map with a salad they become uncoordinated a waitress nails their coffees down they hang on as a hurricane passes passes into the idea of itself like a brooding hill some degrees north may be warm enough to reheat the memory of the pie but now the waitress is lost in the idea of the hurricane as it wildly undresses the coffee disturbing the outline of the search party that has only recently learnt the meaning of "to eat" they tear hunger apart and find the entrails are like looking at a map of memory undressed Spring Day (sneeze). some sky (blue) hovers over some trees (green) just after it rained (wet) the clouds empty and deflated on the horizon (murky) now some sunshine (bright) livens up the day some Brahms on the radio (brown) i'm waiting for some Scriabin (colourful) though it doesn't arrive is that a plane or a mosquito? (buzz) though a V formation is surely ducks (red) a narrow breeze going north mid afternoon time for a quick nap (zzzzz)



Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit. He is currently retired from work but not from any of the above.
 
 
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