Yer Granny

Oh yer
CANNY shove yer granny off a bus;
NOMADder if she never makes a fuss.
SNORT loud she might and biff yer, she’s
CABIN (‘scuse the cold) for to get yer; oh yer
CANNY shove yer granny off a bus.

(Sorry for the matching line at the end, aficionados!)

The opening line ‘pinched’ from this song

Canny

A SCOT, wha hae with Wallace bled, did
FEIGN that he himself were dead; used
CHALK to mark his face as pale, and
EAGER, lived to tell the tale.

[With apologies to Robbie Burns and nothing to do with this DQP]

Fixed

THETA, in uppercase symbol, is shorthand for all manner of
RAJAH-important science and maths statements. My favourite, the to-the-
MANOR-born Pentaquark: four quarks and a antiquark fixed together, like a
LOUSE fixed between two fingers on the day you finally catch one.

Alone

SPINY spine shivers – the
WALTZ tune is serpentine, the tune slithers amongst the
ORGAN reeds, equally creeping, sneaking, snaking through my bones,
ALONE, chilled, in this densely crammed dance hall.

Eating peaches

‘SEIZE the day’ they say and the
ANGST
BEGAN: ‘Was I seizing the day in the way I would seize a
PEACH, ripe, ready to slurp – once I’d got over the furry skin texture again which always makes me feel as though I’m wondering what it is I’m really eating.

Yin Yong Chun: Apples and peaches in bowls with polo tapestry
[my title, not the artist’s]

Ears, merely

AUDIO bits fixed on the side of your head hear sounds in the
INBOX fixed in the inside of your head, provide a
CHART of sound waves to the mists of your brain, where they’re
DEALT with by grey matter and reproduced again.

Structure of the ear

Um?

FRUIT-cakes, in every term the office-workers are
EQUAL, equal also in the term that is
FERAL, feral in their approach to ordering their
LATTE latterly, not early, like those expecting Summer fruit in Winter.

My office, circa 2009

Bayou

LOWLY bayou, yet ablaze with a
BLAZE of ghosts; though lowly, still
GHOSTly. This lowly bayou enflames the
BAYOU’s pale and lowly emblazing ghosts.

Bayou Cocodrie

Climber

PRONE, hanging mid-air, deep breath, with a flick of the
WRIST I convulse to twist vertical, and continue to
CLIMB the supposedly insurmountable rockface; more
LEERY now of falling, flailing flat on my back again.