TOUCH me, and my flesh begins to
BURST. In the room I hear a
CREAK – it’s my heart, tip-toeing.
RADIO static is the sound in my head.
Category: MikeCrowl
Annual bath
The slightly illiterate stable boy celebrates a once-a-year event…
TUMORrow I’ll do the washing. The
SLIMY, stinky, mud-covered
TUNIC will be first. Then I’ll wash the
STRAW out of my hair.
Boo hoo
I
FELON a nasty piece of
STEEL, which caused a
KNOLL on my knee, now I’m
GLOOMy.
Shifting the odd bison
A
SAINT who makes practical his SPORT
by
USING his strength to shift the odd BISON,
finds it
HEFTY a task, and lengthy a QUOTA –
Sees it
DEBIT his pay packet, like decimal to OCTAL.
[Catching up from the weekend…or two for the price of one]
Ssss…snake
CRICK in the neck after my crazed horse
SHIED at the snake slung on a branch. The
VENOM is mild; I can still make it to the
VENUE in time, all the while looking sideways.
Woke-soft
OLIVE is the colour of the tough-as fence-
PLANKs – some aged militarian using up surplus army paint.
OUT GO the planks, their stolid lives replaced by woke-soft
WOVEN material that might survive one small storm, maybe two.
Bugler
STINT at nothing, bugler, as you blow that
BUGLE. Drive with vigour and with
RIGOUR a fine-honed, sharp-boned
WEDGE through the enemy’s heart.
Sooty
A
DEMON, randomly appearing, looked
SOOTY. I gave him a clean white
SCARF I’d recently worn as an
EMCEE to wipe his Hellish face.
Betterer
VIVID is the picture of how late I’m going to be; the
IDLER on my ancient car is playing up – I know it wants to
TEASE me. No mechanic, I scratch my head, then
BELCH! Good old girl! The car is betterer again.
Economics, I think
OWING to a PAUSE in the fall of the
POUND, I EXALT. This will deal with the
ARRAY of DEBITs in my portfolio. I
SING Exhaustingly, I GLOAT.
