INDEX

INDEX was published in 2021 by zimZalla, you can find out more about it and buy it here.

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This is a tremendous screaming opportunity
across the city for a day and a night
be shy of the coffee
no actual tabletop cooking is involved
I Try to conceal my tender gifts
call a spade an immense chandelier children
the King of their city was a ghool;
For Heaven's Sake
I'm thinking of the man
look Think of a number
Why not Make a large, flat, decorative wall map?
hearing the devil
From off your table take the right sort of books
gentian-spangled sugar and shaky experience
Another jerk dictates the gin-sodden gabble of the town
in the dooming times of retreat
families with low incomes are buying
in a world
make one little pile of haunting sadness
cold and cruel newspaper reports
artists all over the world
the close-packed clouds play the guitar
Let us construct a typical London at noon
my money has a firm handshake
Are you gilt furniture in the slanting sunlight?
The young grey squirrel
a sensible girl witnessing the integration of the bride
He laid his damp palm on the frozen face of nature
poetry can be produced in a dark cupboard
A hat should give you a feeling
What's the idea this time?
good luck London
you ask me why I'm depressed!
Tired of working in the kitchen?
trouble with false hearted lovers
the dead man sat alone in the library
an isolated queen woke up
refine your picture-gallery
Start by using a crumpled paper towel
after sundown
You will need a watery sun.
If you have a big fat turkey cock
I don't want to go into the details
another nicely behaved snake
remember a pleasant materialistic painter.
smooth and important
A gondola rowed by a lone ghost
fly over the lawn at dusk.
Here we go
The problem of the day-by-day fondue hostess
the humble noble apple
make an experiment
long-dead She rose
place a tea wagon at one end of the earth
run, jump, you are approaching a divinity.
Blend the entire sky with feelings of anger and sadness
The old woman had a cocky air
how was one to get used to SCHOOL?
I used to go and comb the mountains
You have turmoils
we went to the country
a solid-hearted lettuce has a trifling mind
In times like these, perform the can-can
Br-r-r-r, it's cold outside-
cut up potatoes for soup
deeply constant are the feelings In the little cup
I should like to show you
women should never wear chopped ham or blotted paper
I would like to thank Van Gogh for the tap on the nut
black stone, NOTES black gloves
dreaming of the golden days darling.
sleep off the brandy, speak the truth
self-consciously picturesque
the mist-enveloped landscape
There's nothing like four rather vain attics
you are in an orchard, Some time after midnight
mother is very proud of her large stone intellect
Pretend you lived before
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