Cosmic Dust

The eleventh line belongs to Joe Strummer

Universes stretch before us

Scouts construct tyrannosaurus

Bees hum Hallelujah Chorus

Centipede climbs Cotapaxi

Vicar marries Queen in taxi

Alien spacecraft orbits Venus

Russians raffle Stalin’s penis

Gas explosion wrecks collider

Vicar marries nun in glider

Grandma locks herself in kludgie

Vacuum cleaner sucks up budgie

Brides like husbands hot and hairy

Vicar marries phantom fairy

Skeleton is royal hunchback

Hungry schoolgirl claims her lunch back

Cracker jokes are getting subtler

Vicar marries Swedish butler

Chef serves prehistoric fish up

Presbyterians bash the bishop

Midgets favour rabbit hutches

Vicar marries bearded duchess

Bullfrogs copulate in chalice

Pandemonium rocks the palace

Bunnies bid for furry fandom

Vicar marries boys on tandem

Every universe is random.

Frightful Friend

The italicised lines are borrowed (slightly emended) from Walter de la Mare

When your mind is a blank and there’s nothing to do,

When your future is what you forgot,

When you haven’t a hope and you haven’t a clue,

When you’re steadily losing the plot,

When you’re making one hell of a hullabaloo,

Strait-jacketed into your cot,

He will whisper discreetly, “Ah friend, is it you?”

    And there’s no one to say it is not.

When it’s bonzer, it’s beezer, it’s tickety-boo,

And your enemies all have been shot,

When you’ve dug up the treasure of Brian Boru

And loaded it into your yacht,

When the master’s just massacred half of the crew

And you have to do something, but what?

He will sidle aboard with his, “Friend, is it you?”

    And there’s no one to say it is not.

With his horns and his terrible teeth in plain view,

With his crocodile shears and garotte,

With his tail and his hooves (oh the bold buckaroo),

He comes in at a purposeful trot.

You can smell his hot breath like the stew of a zoo,

Or a corpse that’s beginning to rot,

He will sigh, “Ah my dear, is it true? Is it you?”

    And there’s no one to say it is not.

John Whitworth

Noises Off

Scrunch scrunch scrunch went the boots on the gravel.

Creak creak creak went the door in the wall.

Squeak squeak squeak went the rats in the kitchen.

Woof went the hound in the hall.

Moan moan moan went the ghosts in the attic.

Swish swish swish went the folds of their cloaks.

Pad pad pad went their feet in the stairway.

Hoo went the owls in the oaks.

Sniff sniff sniff went the nose of the jailer.

Tick tick tick went the sound of the clock.

Tap tap tap went the friend at the window.

Scratch went the key in the lock.

Drip drip drip went the sweat on your forehead.

Thump thump thump went the heart in your chest.

Bang bang bang went the guns of the soldiers.

Twang went the string in your vest.

 John Whitworth