disk grinder Poems

Many years ago we stood against the vile evil, and overtopped them with garden ideal

Shot them full of their own blood
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I think that could work in monarch infested countries.

Delegate regal duties to a big meaty sausage, wearing a crown.
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Is to describe the Bristol Harbour Festival

A crowd of smiling people, taking a cheap holiday from frowning at bills and tax returns.
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See, terrorists, at one time were children. They had teddy bears and sip-cups with milk or juice in them. And they were full with life and looked out on their bomb-torn landscapes and only saw playgrounds. Unexploded bombs were rockets to the moon, and bullet casings were gold nuggets scattered on the ground.

The sky was hot metal blue above the smoking ruins of yellow buildings where once their dad sold taps and sinks and other sundry plumbing supplies. Until the daisy cutter cut the tops off all their friends who looked up when the airplanes came in.
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