Derek Jarman & My Aunt

Dear God, please
send me to hell
will be received
& then hung up
equal to Sylvia’s
phantom cattle –
Mr Jarman & my
Aunt on my wall
[beside my very
grave self-portrait
in charcoal 1984]
My [almost] queer
gallery [There’s a
BBC Radio play in
that line] I’ll heed
my wireless every
day – streamed &
free on-demand
[til they agree it’s
not by decrees of
licence abolition]
I’ll mind one God
[my other Aunty
Beeb] & pray that
our public T.V. is
kept from Azazel


Also found on Medium

To buy your own piece of hell visit Prospect Cottage

How do you mute a problem like Katie?

[Apologies to Oscar Hammerstein II, none to Katie Hopkins]

How do you mute a problem like Katie?
How do you catch a cow and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Katie?
A fascist-in-favour, a will-o’-the wisp! A clown!

Many a-thing you know she’d like to tell you,
many a-thing she so mis-understands,
but how do you make her mute,
to listen to what you say,
being sacked is part of her bigger plan:

Oh, how do you solve a problem like Katie?
How do you get Hopkins forever banned?
When I hear her I’m confused,
ears bleeding and bemused,
And I know that she doesn’t give a f*cking damn.

Thought for the Day


Seven forty five, a mumbled ‘thought’,
the BBC re-tuned, for the overwrought:

Then ‘the weather’, to equate the accounts,
(we British bleed rain, in large amounts).

Headlines-recited, a modulation:
Slaughter of stock markets, our fascination.

Tea downed-cool as the BBC speaks,
this nation listens, to the half-scripted piques;

gone from the house, and our thoughts go astray,
these fears unsolved, by Thought for the Day.