hedgepig blink

This little burnt up hope
This impalpable rash of tangibility
This wedding dress wish
This calamitous impulse of contradiction

Woe to the tree monger
Who fells the sticky budded sapling
In the primal forest
Where naked bathe invisible nymphs
Where the wolf and hedgepig blink

Woe to thee o scrawler of dribble
O fiddler o diddler
O banger of strumps
And hanger of lark pits
It’s so easy for you to say
My mushroom I haunt you
It’s too easy for you to say
I’ll fangle your cat

This little burnt hope
Has become a glowing ember now
Take the hot potato from the cinders
And eat the fluffy flesh with flecks
Of ash and carbon
Don't forget to say please,
Little grey wolf  yeah yeah
Blow hot and cold on my gruel
According to the rules of enchantment
You be the lost girl 
Or maybe the bear
who's porridge went cool
And I’ll be your madman –
your, secret, your fool.



26/02/2012