Pete Spence

While a Cello Takes a Bath.

if the dog's tail
wags any faster
will it tilt
the world enough
for sunrise to come
early?
           the seismograph
has hay fever
sneezes as pollen
fills the air
avoiding a gang
of bees
              a windsock 
replete with clouds
and biplanes
sulks on a ridge
and to think
i thought aviation
was asexual!
                      bagpipes
whittle the air
more amorous
than a toucan
on holidays
in the Hebrides 
or a piano invaded 
by white-ants
fabricating 
chop-sticks
while a cello
takes a bath
                       this
menu is like
reading Tolstoy
at page 186
the chef becomes
hysterical
the asparagus
frowns the lemons
faint the pasta
files for divorce 
                             by 
now a sweaty 
bunch of sparrows
make the afternoon
more moving
doing a stocktake
on bugs
                waist high
in waste land
a kleptomaniac
is at a loss
by an excess
of emptiness
surrounded by
some mustard
coloured sunlight
                                how
surprising
to stumble across 
a valley filled 
with umbrellas 
and no rain
in sight!
                the clouds
have gone
on strike
everything feels
and looks
like parchment


Lost Bookmark.

what do
you do
when your
bookmark
is off
somewhere
having lunch
or worse
taking on
someone
else's chapter!
or at
the library
where it
will go insane
decision making
being
a failing
characteristic!
hopefully it
is sulking
in the sun
with a
mineral water
or fallen
headline
over footnote
for another
bookmark!


Soup of the Day.

meaning to eat and humour the pie
not to let it go before it is gone
the freshly baked search party takes a break
sharing the map with a salad they become uncoordinated
a waitress nails their coffees down
they hang on as a hurricane passes
passes into the idea of itself like a brooding hill
some degrees north may be warm enough
to reheat the memory of the pie
but now the waitress is lost in the idea of the hurricane
as it wildly undresses the coffee
disturbing the outline of the search party
that has only recently learnt the meaning of "to eat"
they tear hunger apart and find the entrails
are like looking at a map of memory undressed



Spring Day (sneeze).

some sky (blue)
hovers over
some trees (green)
just after
it rained (wet)
the clouds empty
and deflated
on the horizon (murky)

now some sunshine (bright)
livens up the day
some Brahms 
on the radio (brown)
i'm waiting
for some Scriabin (colourful)
though it
doesn't arrive

is that a plane
or a mosquito? (buzz)
though a V formation
is surely ducks (red)
a narrow breeze
going north
mid afternoon
time for a quick nap (zzzzz)

Pete Spence was born in 1946. He is a poet, visual poet, and filmmaker, and has worked in various jobs to cover the ongoing deficit. He is currently retired from work but not from any of the above.
 
 
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