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I met a old man who was mad about tractors
He'd written some manuals for Masseys
He knew every nut, every bolt, every spring
From the wheels to the cab to the chassis
My interest has waned in the post-petrol days
I suppose getting a girlfriend's a factor, man
Once, I'd suck in the air at a Ford or John Deere
But now, I am just an ex-tractor fan


Twitching With Lust
Your kagoul yawns invitingly
As you lean over the crag
I know youd like a red-backed shrike
But do you fancy a shag?


A lonely Geography teacher writes
No man is an island
But sometimes I feel like a peninsula
An isthmus.
Isthmus Peninsula in today?
No shes left.
Shame, I thought we might have had a future together.

No man is an island
But I am an archipelago
Hark! I think I heard the bell go a spell ago
Id better go.


Colours poem (work in progress)
White power
Black power
The gray vote
The pink pound
The red menace
The yellow peril
The green agenda
The beige conspiracy
I may have made the last one up

I am tired of colours,
Hasten their extinction
Why don't we use patterns
As a means of distinction?
Gingham power
Paisley pride
The check vote
The dogtooth menace
Speckled interest
Piebald rump
Herringbone heartland
The polka dot pound...


All poems copyright Jez Taylor 2016. Ilustrations copyright Imogen Shaw 2014


Bolder Books