Category Archives: The Small Prince

Get a Free Book of Hungarian Poetry if You’re Flying Lufthansa Today

get a book,
there’s nothing cleaner, freer or cheaper
than a perfect-bound book,
and you with your little ipod,

flicking through the pages,
as a squirrel wearing a tie

might read hungarian poetry,
as i think he might.

there’s goulash in your future,
by which i mean
many delights,

and what a shame i’m not hungarian,
what a shame you’re not on this flight.


Music: Ülök egy rózsaszínû kádban by Metro

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on bread and imprisonment

the locks are old and weak;

and suspended in mid-air beside them
their keys,

and the keys to many other locks on
a large gold ring.

the jailer is eating a sandwich. O!
What shall we do with the jailer
and his sandwich?

It is an exceedingly large meal for one person.
This could take a while –
let this poem eat your time.

Power Rangers lunchbox,
bright red plastic

holds no sandwich now.

The red box for breadcrumbs

was once
a jail-cell,
much like this one.

Peter and the Hare – Commemorative Comicbook

Selected Contents –

3 – some wine.
4 – our cast
5dmitri
6 – a message from Death.
7 – an apple for alistair (an original and pointless story)
9the small prince.
13pin-up supplement

Look to the blue skies and pipe-work on certain pages of your comic book (see above). This is my hope for the future.

Peace and antique cutlery,

Peter and someone else.

Miniature Tree of Envelopes

ah, i wish my saplings good luck –

my little tree of letters
next to my piss-pot
when it rains,

so it is fifty percent myself,
and the rest is
weather-water

when an insect licks the back
of The Queen’s head,
on a stamp.

Tell my true love,
“I love you”;
a reader,
who unfolds the leaves
with less than
half a thumb.

(1902-1903)

all of which…the spirit suggests

FOUND POEMS AFTER READING THIS

I.

The Orchard is still white,
the President is seven.

It was absurd for a man
of his standing,
sitting down,

to be the subject of
such spite
behind green shutters.

Even George Douglas Brown
would gossip with Countesses,

before mixing a great cocktail

of his jealousy,
for the Provost.

II.

Anchored one end of
the great slaughter,

the Dinwiddie Colored Quartet
asked what precisely
a Dinwiddie was,

for they had never seen one.

III.

A doughy man from Saxony
avoids the sun
like Edison.

A grim mystic from Danzig,
sleeps the Empire
through his head.

He has an elaborate toothache,
and spits three times,
on his left.

They talk through an interpreter;
he says

his grandfather never existed.

IV.

Okay,
that’s quite enough of this nonsense.

But do read the article.

The Small Prince’s Reputation

the first part
of the national anthem
is:

“What a State we’re in!”

“O! Dear Land!
O! Dear!”

When the small prince
percieved

at his feet,
a sinking feeling,

because after all
he was in the kitchen…

the butt of all jokes,
he dare not enter the taverns,

he was,
at least,
everything but

only a prince.

II.
at which point,
a deer passed through his poem
with a look of disinterest

and an Adult Zebra Finch.

 

(oh, deer.)

Pic Source

The Small Prince’s Simple Pleasures

the small prince was instructed
to eat part of an apple,
and leave the remainder
in his pocket
for after.

“After who?”
After witches invaded the beaches,
squashing the snails,
who were guarding the coastlines,

after the hostile arrest of an
Andalusian poet,
after the small prince laughed
because his pennies were worthless

and the prince sat on a shell;
“which Hell is worthwhile?”

The prince sighed,
“Tobacco”.

and produced a liquorice pipe.

“one can work small wonders”, said he.

the small prince sat
in the same glass you keep your toothbrush.

Don’t fill it up with water,
find another thing to drink.

The small prince thought
“…but i’m too small to be a monarch

when shall I grow up?”

The small prince asked his mother.

The small prince is so small
that to look at him makes you nauseous,

he cannot be seen by most naked eyes;
wear as many clothes as you can.

The small prince reads a small-print edition
of Dmitri’s theories of pyrology

He was plagiarised from a European
copy of a grandmother’s
puppet that blew in from the window.

The window was small,
and the room’s wooden mirror,
could never show his face,
and was warped by the glass.

 

 

A Minute’s Worth of Story

An elephant painted a picture.

lots of important people said that the picture was good, and talked about it for a long time amongst themselves.

it was then revealed that it was an elephant who painted the picture, and the man said this was proof that the painting was bad, and all the people who liked it were silly for saying so.

the elephant was sad, and sat weeping in his house

for days and days and days

The END

For days and days
without a sound,
looking through holes
made by woodworm.

the small prince was here,
surveying the plans
for his castle
to be built inside a pillbox
for the sick.

“These blueprints, make them greener
then you will have my permission,
to plant a tree so huge
it blocks the entrance,

there i’ll be.”