paul shannon

paul shannon Poems

human soup

fry the onion until transparent
add the stock and toss in various shapes
...

spuds

when the potatoes
were being worried by the dogs
...

why don’t you put some weight on?
i can’t see you,
sounds vaguely mysterious,
like standing in the shadows on a grassy knoll,
...

paul shannon Biography

Many years ago as a form of concealment I cemented My hooligan children into the crazy paving 'Art is a vice. One doesn't marry it legitimately, one rapes it' - 'Art is dishonest and cruel.' Degas.)

The Best Poem Of paul shannon

Am I Too Old Yet?

human soup

fry the onion until transparent
add the stock and toss in various shapes
give it a furious stir
bring to the boil and simmer down

while the soup is cooking,
grind with mortar and pestles etc
all the stems cells to a thick paste
add to the simmering broth
serve with pencils



eating

to derive from food its energy
for growth and self aggrandisement
eat only the edible portion.
abstain from fat on pans,
outer leaves, feathers and domestic pets.

you may eat any number of meals a day
up to ten o’clock at night,
but remember a meal can be defined
as such only if eaten sitting down
during a single period of time.



Shrimp balls

amid all the paraphernalia
none expects flat space exists,
spat tula:
a sprig accompanied by little dishes.
she swims with her fingers only
till exhausted
till her jaws ache
with the effort to repeat herself.



Fricassee of mad dog

bearing in mind a circular block
chop up a field of lush parsley
adding a bit more bulge or taking a bit more out

pare hollow the frozen turnips
blanche in a shoal with sprigs of holly
shave and shape the carrots to a tapering thickness
cook kindly

serve….with scraps from the table…

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