Rod Summers's Page

Birds don’t shelter from the wind. A song for Tom.

There, explicit and gornald; thrust whence once and carried, gran bitter fordith.
Moss dust grows there still.
Implicit bracht the Norman gilding, thorough, fare and through me,
Anne Barant the thordas grime but then it’s easy over Shannon fields with lore abundant.
Press on the point, sew aptly bare down on the ocean floor first myth bought maudle iffin summoned quill
And barely time to custard.
Is that the mind you hired? Is that your mind that tired? Tree sea? Luck tough, can’t say you didn’t have it norming altitude brandish
but then it’s so with perlite.
Did you ben when thorgal balute in penultimate? Brashy bell and cordite bangle, scorn and fatless thornbolt.

II
Hot from the cardboard thigh and calling
for percussion mole bite haughty,
Implicit more than three fit thimbles
Brunt of carpool eye wash dreary,
Leaden heath o’er land dill spreading
In yonder girrid brush per yard and
Bell and buckle bright the burnish
Born of thoughts in mulberry curd
Though eastern colours Gary wrought
Staggered lime struck minefield princess
Scoring lines in lines so taught
And all the time lock win for wane scree
Barren orbuhl baulk end sought.

Tomography is baleen order,
Quiver braced with iodine
There is no prior riven order to
The gourd of slipping things
The spectre of the mangrove grime slime
Greenland’s herring fleet possessed
Then Bernie netted lost the half time
On dogged banks of drifting breast
And though we damson green through purple
Noxious cobalt ceilings dust
Snapping fumes of turtle hurtle
Tapping oxtail soup for musk
She told me
It was
Myrtle.


FRANE THE VIRTUAL

Frane the virtual mori gloss
And barm in glory midas tock
Notter fen inbyro pressed
When quinsly Durham bilag lock
Full ennil bhutol durm intact
And japock frocks were kileray
Best green was in a tirade sterm
And murmer played the rudge all day

Then pult oh fromot liport yearned
Was thus the burlap empty cup
Lorn in excess pressed doily mange
Whilst fedro billing looked her up
Bright jiring elements were brash
Pre Raphaelite and over brushed
Through endless graze born phananthrope
In bobbing excess weedy rushed

No more the intent grim and foil
No more bereft than pindle bake
No more the dorey gimble oil
No more the stilted ingress flake

And so to hermane fillet brought
By verbose insight truly lost
Are brackish kalick wishing wrought
For sixpence and a far thing crossed
All lava braut in basket taal
Sought diamonds in the chilling moss
But finding nothing water raal
Was frane the virtual mori gloss

Rod Summers/VEC
Isleworth
29 January 2008