INDEX

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

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