Badger soup and pea surprise

Normalise, normalise
Standard issue, standard size
Normalise, normalise
Not too stupid, not too wise
Rationalise, rationalise
Badger soup and pea surprise
Rationalise, rationalise
Look a pilchard in the eye
Categorise, categorise
Bake your blazer in a pie
Categorise, categorise
Take some words and make them sky
Float them kitewards, make them high.


Pea soup

You hooked me, cooked me,
Put me in a blender.
The sad thing is,
You probably don’t remember.
You hounded me and rounded me,
And put me in the jug,
Then pushed the button,
And drank me from a mug.
Down I went like a spider down a drain,
And then on a wave of vomit I came out again.

Maverick woodlouse makes pea soup, and vomits

Woodlouse army singing Amy Winehouse, marching,

Feet full of glee and throats parching,

Back to the spot where dadabot lay,

Entombed in his glass bauble,

Brain rotting,

Train spotting.

“Gather them to me”

Commands Maverick to his men,

And they round them up,

The shrivelled remains of Dadabot’s pea permutations,

Woodlice fighters from all nations

Round them up and cleanse them

(in fact they liquidize and blend them

In Maverick’s new soup-making machine).

His eyes gleam.

(It’s very green.)

He drinks the rotten pea juice down decisively,

One of the soldiers laughs derisively.

Dadabot screams silently,

But part of him is glad,

The other part is mad

And minds not a jot,

That a louse has devoured the pea rot.

Then Maverick looks queasy,

His men fidget uneasily,

As pea permutation projectile vomit lurches up,

And paints a bright green splash across the ground,

And another hurl sends a whirl to splatter dadabot’s face

With a green lightning bolt to jolt his heart alive

If it had a spark of life inside,

But he stares, glassy eyed,

As the juices Maverick produces

Are disturbingly profuse.

But he has seen it all before,

Been vomited up and splattered out the door.

Maverick paints a green tale of bloodshed and gore,

never seen since and never seen before.

His noble woodlouse body heaves and hurls,

He gasps for breath as the peas shoot for freedom once more,

And splat against Dadabot’s green glass bauble,

Dripping down drearily like some limp froth.

At last the vomit ceases,

The glass breaks into tiny pieces,

But dadabot is still.

The woodlouse army marches on.

The peas are gone.



Dadabot thinks himself a girlfriend, who is then eaten by a chair

Alone inside my bubble I could barely see out,

I didn’t think to scream and i didn’t think to shout.

I thought a place to put her, bubble by bubble,

And her throne grew painfully, doubled and doubled.

Pea-thick soup jelly her seat and her place,

I thought her and thought her into time and into space.

She grew and she trembled as life’s breath made her alive,

Skin and hair and hands so cold they made my heart dive

And splash and jump and leap through the waves so slick,

I try to move towards her but the glass is too thick,

Her robot hands and robot arms poised coolly on their chair,

Crazy and deranged I am held by her stare

And she sinks oozily back into the chair that I thought her,

Bubbling away with soup-crazed laughter,

Sucked and eaten by her pea throne,

And I am left alone,

Staring at a chair

Burping her into the air.