While a Cello Takes a Bath.

if the dog’s tail
wags any faster
will it tilt
the world enough
for sunrise to come
early?
……….the seismograph
has hay fever
sneezes as pollen
fills the air
avoiding a gang
of bees
……….a windsock
replete with clouds
and biplanes
sulks on a ridge
and to think
i thought aviation
was asexual!
……….bagpipes
whittle the air
more amorous
than a toucan
on holidays
in the Hebrides
or a piano invaded
by white-ants
fabricating
chop-sticks
while a cello
takes a bath
……….this
menu is like
reading Tolstoy
at page 186
the chef becomes
hysterical
the asparagus
frowns the lemons
faint the pasta
files for divorce
……….by
now a sweaty
bunch of sparrows
make the afternoon
more moving
doing a stocktake
on bugs
……….waist high
in waste land
a kleptomaniac
is at a loss
by an excess
of emptiness
surrounded by
some mustard
coloured sunlight
……….how
surprising
to stumble across
a valley filled
with umbrellas
and no rain
in sight!
the clouds
have gone
on strike
everything feels
and looks
like parchment

**

Etude Seizure.

etude seizure? a Villon
is at the gates singing
while some elephants
are on a skiing holiday
in the alps meanwhile
in Mauritius the gazebos
bivouac in the swelter
the vocalese of a swift
hinterland echoes
through the hills pouring
the scorn of scoria on
the odour of puritans
Breugel steps out for
some fresh air but
its the wrong painting
he is in the signature
in the corner reads
Grandma Moses!

**

Soup of the Day.

meaning to eat and humour the pie
not to let it go before it is gone
the freshly baked search party takes a break
sharing the map with a salad they become uncoordinated
a waitress nails their coffees down
they hang on as a hurricane passes
passes into the idea of itself like a brooding hill
some degrees north may be warm enough
to reheat the memory of the pie
but now the waitress is lost in the idea of the hurricane
as it wildly undresses the coffee
disturbing the outline of the search party
that has only recently learnt the meaning of “to eat”
they tear hunger apart and find the entrails
are like looking at a map of memory undressed

**

Pete Spence is 73 and going strong.