INDEX

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

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