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Today, we have 70 poems + 11 stories + 3 essays = 84 works by 43 authors
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| Erratics | ||
| Our place for other stuff | ||
| Light verse, squibs and lampoons. In other words, a miscellany that we didn't know where else to put. | ||
| Next Door Neighbour Blues by Edmund Growler | ||
| Oh, blow that horn, man, Right through the wall, It's so forlorn, man, And not tuneful at all, Like a cow getting born, man, Or a mad preacher's call The stress is profound, man, It's making me wheeze, Can't just stay around, man, Till you gets some expertise, From the way you sound, man That could be centuries So blow it like hell, man, Don't get me wrong. I'm casting my spell, man, You aint got too long, Not with warts on your tongue, man, And trumpeter's lung! |
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| Sex and Death Among the Poets by Edmund Growler | ||
| Why do you think that I should want to know What's only news to you - editions of Your feelings when you screw or suck or blow? They hardly seem to qualify as love In the poetic way. God! - you reply - Just listen to this critical old fart! His "Intimations of Mortality" - Now tell me, who needs those? Have a heart! |
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| Graveyard Shift by Anonymous | ||
| HERE LIES MARY SEXTON WHO PLEASED MANY A MAN BUT NEVER VEX'D ONE NOT LIKE HER UNDER THE NEXT STONE Heard on BBC Radio 4's "Quote, unquote". |
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| Classic FM by Edmund Growler | ||
Yew never had it so smeewthe,
breathes the little-girl voice after 5 minutes of Mozart. Or, after a bit of broken-off Boccherini, deep male tones urge us to rela-a-x, because more, much more, will be coming just after this, to make it all better. This being a 10-minute jangle advertising Vauxhalls, before someone’s second movement is played by someone. Stay in tune: then the start of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik turns rapidly into BOINGTY BOINGTY BOING, BOING BOING! - their tune… But it's all for your own good: Sit back, rela-a-x... What's with all this rela-a-xing, this smeewtheness? Isn't it obvious that classical music, let flow in small enough doses from its warm container, is the best kind of enema, so relaxing for your bowels, so smoothing for your movements, especially when followed by the necessary hard plug? |
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| Dogged by Edmund Growler | ||
| That wavering, hangdog look as we pass on the public way is the mark of a guilty mind. How can I bid him g’day and let him off the hook when his mongrel’s shitting behind? |
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| Testing Turing by Ted Burford | ||
| Here come more inputs! I make suitable responses, Wordperfect.
I’ve done it for years |
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Displayed works are copyright of the named author.
Displayed works are copyright of the named author.