in the end his desk was easy to clear

I hear

as he was never officially there

cumming & going

like a malign version

of the downing st cat

in a beanie hat

JD trainers & slacks

and instead of a collar

a lanyard offering top dollar

if the wearer should be found

wandering hopelessly around



B.J in a Box

Someone bought me a Boris Johnson doll
faithfully rendered in wipe clean plastic
the detail was fantastic
white blond hair that stuck up
a shabby shirt that rucked up
eyes that narrowed and slid
and written in big blue letters on the lid

Back of the box was a list of features:
realistic hands for passing the buck
cloak of invisibility when things come unstuck
extra large pockets so there’s room enough
for paternity suits and bungs and stuff
additional velcro suit, hat and stick
so he can change into Churchill pretty quick
Tough! Dynamic! A real world-beater!

But I got a shock when I pulled him out
In his back was a cord to make him speak
Waffle and spoffle and schoolboy Greek
and underneath where the batteries went
was another, peculiar looking vent
so I put the doll on the kitchen floor
got a spoon from the cutlery drawer
levered it open and gave it a clout

Inside was a figure like a decorated peg
in a shell-suit, lanyard and beanie
I’d never seen a person so weenie
or so grumpy, I have to confess
with a hard little stare like he couldn’t care less
I’d performed a C-section with a spoon
and sprung him from his womb
like a crappy toy from a Kinder egg

There was nothing on the box to say he was there
nothing in the instructions
the long list of functions
so I wondered what it was all about
I mean – it’s something I can do without
I think it’s pretty standard when you buy a doll
that you’re the one who’s in control
and not some other fucker hidden somewhere

cummings, running


look at all the lemmings
blindly following
all the stoppings and stayings
the leavings and dyings
the sorry son no goodbyings
the unattended buryings
the forbidden crossings
of non-existent rings
round all those dirty, deadbeat, disposable things


it’s crushing


we need something



yeah – well – fuck you cummings


Dom the cat comes back

This is an allegorical parable / but nothing TOO politically scatalogical, scary or horrible / so don’t worry / you won’t have to say sorry / run out in a hurry / hands over your ears, eyes all blurry / no – this is easier on the nerves than that / this is a story about a magician’s cat

There was this magician called Boris / superficially magicianly but a bit of a novice / who used to crash about the place / his spells a disgrace / comical flying goggles strapped to his face / cackling in a cliche witchy way / as he gabbled and grappled with the problems of the day / riding a long & expensive-looking broom / he kept propped up in the corner of his room / with a woven willow pillion on the back / for a little black tom / called Dom

Dom was cool & collected / sharp & connected / gave whispery, whiskery advice / had a good head for heights / jumped without warning & never looked twice / knew a lot about mice / but wasn’t obsessed / was wary of dogs but not so you’d guess / his photo often in the local press / I mean – in all feline respects he was blessed / and the thing he loved best / was any kind of magical test

One night an ogre approached the village / waving its fists, threatening pillage / chucking cows, cars, silage / getting plenty of mileage / from the usual ogreish antics / and cliche monster movie theatrics / it was all looking pretty tragic / until the mayor went to Boris to plead for some magic

No problemo / Major-Domo! / he blustered / but looked a little flustered / as he reluctantly snatched up his broom / flew out of the room / straight at the beast / to a holding altitude of three ogres at least / then laughed as its terrible rage increased / swiping as he circled out of reach / and everything seemed set to continue like that / till he banked too hard and lost the cat / which the ogre caught smartly in its upturned hat

‘Stop right now or the kitten gets it’ / the ogre said – and meant it / he had a mean reputation and was happy to augment it / you name the moral code – he’d bent it / if there was ever any forgiveness in his heart he’d spent it / a long time ago / I don’t know / these things domino / but whatever the deep psychological reason / for the ogre’s endless, friendless season / of monstrous malfeasance / long story short – he was nursing a grievance / so heinous it ranked as his greatest achievement / and he kept the villagers permanently scared / with a series of moves he’d pre-prepared / and some he thought of on the spot / depending on how much time he’d got

But Dom was a resourceful cat / he leaped out of the ogre’s hat / scooted round his back / up onto his shoulder / gripped him by his spike-studded collar / and shouted deep in his hairy ear / I can see you’re cross but there’s nothing to fear / we’re all friends here / you don’t need to be quite so severe / WHAT? – the ogre bellowed / but something about him crumpled & mellowed / he suddenly seemed a more vulnerable fellow / C’mon said Dom, let’s sit and talk / or talk and walk / your choice / just lose the club and lower the voice / we can talk about your childhood, or not – whatever / I just want to get to know you better

So Dom & the ogre walked out on the moors / with Dom on his back waving his paws / and the villagers came out and broke into applause / and Boris landed in the square / and shook hands with the mayor / and everyone there / and they danced and sang till the moon came out / and it was a very good night without a doubt

At last by dawn the cat came back / wandering innocently down the track / and hopped up on the fountain steps / where he licked his paws & yawned & stretched / then looked out over the expectant people / as the bells rang out from the village steeple

You need not fear the ogre again / I’ve ended the creature’s terrible reign / he wants you to know he’s not your enemy / he only needed a little therapy

That’s magic! Boris said / leaning down to pat his head / And now I think we’ve earned our bed / so they both hopped on to the waiting broom / and zoomed away in a billowing plume / of dust / over the hushed / but adoring villagers / who were such rapt & distracted listeners / they didn’t see the ogre creeping back / to launch another surprise attack / that he’d pre-arranged with the sneaky cat / in return for a crooked kick-back

(And the moral of this lamentable chronicle? / ogre’s are bogus and diabolical / cats are sneaky it’s a natural fact / they’ll take your strokes then leave you flat / and last but not least / fight your own beasts / it’s no use going to the local magician / he’ll say and do anything to keep his position).