uploading
Amazon goods to loft space
heavy load
© Rachel Green July 2026
Kissing
Chatsworth car park
at two in the morning
kissing...
and more than kissing...
with a married woman
who sneaked out of her house
when dearest hubby was asleep;
and a sudden flurry of panicked activity
when the headlights of a police car
appears through the gate.
© Rachel Green July 2026
bumble bee
climbing across my fingers
looking for food
© Rachel Green July 2026
Hissing Gate
there was a kissing gate
between the Anglican St Lawrence's
and the long, overgrown walkway
to the Catholic St Mary's.
It was not for kissing:
no fornication on church grounds
because God is always watching
and probably filming, too.
Nor was it to stop livestock escaping
through carelessly open gates
for the dogs could slip through it
and the cows had a different god.
It was there because the Revd. James
was a spiteful old bugger
and installed it to stop Father Timothy
from cycling through the churchyard.
© Rachel Green July 2026
early training
but the academy is closed
Tesco shop
© Rachel Green July 2026
Drury Lane Motors
I don't know the Muffin man
but his phone number was in the book
This was the seventies
where phone numbers came in free tomes
that would start a year's fires.
I asked for four muffins
for my mother's birthday
and he told me to try the supermarket
because he was car mechanic.
© Rachel Green July 2026
Walton Dam
Dog walking with a friend
It seems I have one!
© Rachel Green July 2026
Romantic Frisson
night sky
awash with pinpricks of light
after the evening glow has faded
and a shower of streaking meteors
as the space station falls.
At seventeen minutes to midnight
a child comes into the world
under the zodiac sign of Starlink.
© Rachel Green July 2026
rewatching horror movies
after reading the explanation
quite rewarding
© Rachel Green July 2026
On Following the advice of Nursery Rhymes
who the fuck
sets a baby's cradle
at the top of a tree?
Oh! You thought it would send him to sleep?
It's blowing a fucking gale
no wonder he's crying.
And now there's some fucking Gremlin
sawing away at the branch
like it's lumberjack day at the funny farm.
Oh look! He's fallen
through the roof of the greenhouse
like a tiny Rod Hull.
At least the branch will give you planks
to make a tiny coffin.
I bet you're an antivaccer.
I'm calling Social Services
© Rachel Green July 2026
watching Hellraiser
women with 80s hair
real horror
© Rachel Green July 2026
Bluebirds
someone I don't know
made entirely of wasted semen
claimed I looked like Rod Hull
Maybe it was a complement
maybe it was supposed to be insulting
but it was in interesting take.
So I filmed myself with my hand
rammed up a demon's arse
because I don't have a male bird
Because if I was Rod Hull
I would have instead
a massive blue cock
© Rachel Green July 2026
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baking powder
and cold porridge
dietary aid
© Rachel Green July 2026
American Sonnet
I think of you, and with my blade I dig
into your eyes (but still avoid the brain)
for I would have you suffer for your double gig
as money-grabbing president again.
I want to flay the flesh from living bones
reminding you of selfish policies
that reap rewards for you and you alone
and highlight your hypocrisies.
Then bleed thee dry, the way you have the land
and folk who trusted you with power
and find themselves with empty hand
while you increase your fortunes by the hour.
But I, of course, will do none of these things
for thoughts are legal, still, for commoners and kings.
© Rachel Green July 2026
