INDEX

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

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