INDEX

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

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