The door slams
Hi honey im home
Last night is still vivid in her mind
Broken plates
...
I was feeding my parrot today
And i looked him in the eye
What is his purpose just sitting in a cage
He doesnt know anything about the world today
...
I went downstairs to get my mail
Searching through the usual junk
One letter caught my eye
It was from madame zelda
...
The corner shop was dimly lit
I asked for a case of beer and a pack of nuts
The bag of nuts was yellow and red
The picture on the bag was a peanut
...
Roger dreamed of the sea
But he couldnt do without PVC
He imagined waves and other stuff
But he couldnt do without his ankle cuffs
...
The soap is near the bath
Implants on the fire
With my wooden heart
Shampoo stacked waitress is calling
...
The cow snorts by the gate
He is a holy cow
No rump
No fillet
...
The sun burns like anorexic fat
Sweet summer afternoons
Time moves slow
A frosted glass
...
His brain was swimming in chlorine
Dreams of Dorothy bags
Wrist offended by the regional news
Bass guitar pitched low
...
Bacon butties got him through the day
His heart was wrapped in plastic awaiting delivery
While his sweetheart sprinkled parmesan cheese on microwave meals
Many nights in front of the TV
...
Burnt clothes
Limp out of the door
Fishhook heart
Crawls out of your gut
...
Shoot them up
Do you eat cancer?
Dance on one foot
Put your brain in your mouth
...
Old man blood
Drinking with the plants
Greenhouse reflects idiot dreams
Of blindman under sun
...
The sun came down
In blistered forms
Your eyes cast a shadow
Shaped like a hole
...
One trip a year is enough
Trisha shouts through wet ears
Her candyfloss lips go on and on
The front seat on the ghost train is free
...
The is a light on
A red light
Carry on
Mr Williams drowned in the news
...
The rain crashes down on the street
Tickles a crushed up tin
Vagrants head for shelter
Flames fly from a battered bin
...
I walked in on a friend
He was chanting
NAPEAI BABAJEHE DAS BERINU VAX OOAONA etc
He told me it would bring him unlimited girls
...
Wife Beating
The door slams
Hi honey im home
Last night is still vivid in her mind
Broken plates
Blood swirling down the sink
The bruising is still raw on her body
She feigns happiness
He will change
Someday
These poems aren’t by Clive James