Coming Up... and A Bumper Issue of Short Poetry!!

Hello, hello, hello. I've been busy for a while, so sorry I've not updated in a while, I will get back on track this week, with some highlights to come, such as... A poem about Iggy Pop baiting (follow me on twitter if you want to know more, see top right); a series of political haikus, since the last one was so much fun; a continuation of my blog-novel 'Gritty Northern Drama'; and, I'm sure, many more short poems of joy - like these - A Bumper Issue of Short Poems!:

17. A Premiership footballer walks in to a bar. I’m not saying which bar. And I’m not saying which footballer.

18. A coiled spring shoots up from nowhere. Or does it? It does.

19. Morrissey ties himself to a chair. 'Now I’d like to see them try and catch me,' he thinks, conspiratorially.

20. Oh! Cruel king! How he sits! With whale-blubber slicking back his hair!

21. A family of woodlice crawl under the floorboards. No-one notices them. Everyone in the house above is dead.

22. A baby hovers in the night sky. Possessed? Is anything truly possessed? Yes, this baby was. It was later burnt at the stake.

23. A juvenile crocodile plays hopscotch with his pals. He cheats. He is cast out of the game. He is sad. He cries. Real tears.

24. ‘Tally ho!’ cried the Queen, drunkenly stumbling about the palace, ‘Tally ho!’ Everyone else had gone out for the night.

25. Given the circumstances, Paul was lucky to get off with a double life sentence.

26. Once upon a time there lived a man.

27. A duck sits, considering himself, his pond, and what constitutes ‘duck-feed’.

28. He lounged in the hammock, ironically. He was a haddock.

29. ‘Terrible. Terrible, terrible, terrible.’ And all this from a nun with a gammy knee. (A Runner Reflects.)

30. Concubines; I wish they were still socially acceptable. Then my wife wouldn’t be so upset.

31. Consider this.

32. A man named Larry sits atop a church. He claims he wants to get closer to God. That’s fine. But did he really have to sit with the point of the spire going up his arse?

And Finally, a small 'story poem' as a bonus feature, sort of thing.

A zoo in Berkshire.
The 'Monkey World' Section.
A grouse flies, fluttering up from a nearby scrub (ie. bush)
A monkey sagely observes this, from behind his cruel cage of iron.
Savagely, the monkey flings shit at the grouse.
The shit misses
And lands 'pon a Land Rover in the car park.
The grouse's plan had worked.