A Modern Love Song

I fink I fancy u

wiv de hair dat dus dat flicky fing.

U make me feel like smushy, smoogly goo.

Cum round my ‘ouse, I’ll steam u a brew,

tweet u a status fingybook b b m a ping,

Yeah, I fink I fancy u.

Maybe snog off my face ‘til my lips go blue

or I’ll assign u sum thumpin' spinnin' ring

cos u make me feel like smushy, smoogly goo.

I’ll squiggle love hearts on my fave shoe

and u can tie up r lungs wiv a ball of string.

I fink I fancy u.

We’re all stuck up like a tube of glue,

dis is dat real sparkly loved up ting

and u make me feel like smushy, smoogly goo.

I breathe all my breaths for u boo

my propa darcy type pop tart fling.

I fink I fancy u,

u make me feel like smushy, smoogly goo.

Closed my hand, I thought

love is like a painting. Clichéd, unsurprising. True. A little blot or a smudge or a drip can blossom and grow. Something that is illegible suddenly clears. I saw Picasso’s ‘Woman with Yellow Hair’ during a holiday in New York. At first, I hated it. Hated the simplicity and bluntness. But the more I looked, the more I saw. And suddenly, without warning or effort, I fell in love. Fell in love with a painter. Love is like a painting.

Sweet Pastry Pie on the Side

Sweet pastry pie on the side,

dipping a spoon pop into a pear.

Grabbed your shoulder pinched and cried.

Leather golden brown slab all but dried,

sucked down the pinking sodding air

and the sweet pastry pie on the side.

A sorry haired beast boggle eyed

laughed at the scabby knees down in prayer

he grabbed your shoulder pinched and cried.

Blooming great hole ten bus wide,

warring love letters and nothing’s fair.

Sweet pastry pie on the side.

Parrot chanting I did all and tried

but frozen over, shrinking skin bare

so I grabbed your shoulder pinched and cried.

Aisle down walked the swishy bride,

please bloody listen when I care.

Sweet pastry pie on the side,

I grabbed your shoulder pinched and cried.