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Forget the
Baguette,
Slumber, in the arms of a
Cucumber.
Never doubt the
Sprout.
Don't be mean to the bean.
Make drama, when peeling a
Banana.
Use a heron, to squeeze
Your lemon.
Feed a grape, to that ape.
Carve a kiwi into a kiwi.
Stare at at pear.
Pretend a spring onion,
Is a bunion, but! Don't leave it
In your sock.
Do the tango, with a mango.
Make mashed potato,  look like a chateau.
Excite a parrot,
With a carrot.
Is that pea, a she or a he? Whatever! Have tea with that pea, in a teepee.
Make rice mice.
Don't make a scene, with an aubergine.
Take that courgette, to the vet.
Visit the planet, that looks like a pomegranate.
Dye your boot, with beetroot.
Take the lead, when planting your seed.
Drink sherry with a berry.
See, with glasses made of brocoli.
A horse with dapple, loves an apple.
Don't play dumb, with a plum.
  Jul 27 Nick Moore
Agnes de Lods
Another gray trip to a small town.
At the bus stop:
an abandoned bicycle,
trembling in the rain,
waiting for someone,
who never came.

The coughing crowd,
getting on and off,
headed for the unknown.
Actors carrying
heavy bags of ugly food.

Out of the corner
of an invisible eye
snatches of words
drifting into a wrinkled world—
not the first, vivid green,
but the tired lettuce,
expired bananas—
a symbol of unreachable luxury.

Casual dialogues about angels and demons,
atheists and spiritual needs.
Random people battered by reality
rolling out a red carpet for their thoughts,
spoken aloud in the indifferent air,
small talk about kicking life—
an existential fight to survive.

The game downloaded
by an unfair fate.
Something put him, her, them
on this wrong level,
an extreme mode
the deepest discomfort.

Unfair purpose of pain.
For many,
not being loved is an aching way,
for others,
the lack of bread.

The multiple truths
closed in one small drop
of a rainy day without a name.
Nick Moore Jul 26
Vague meanings to their words,
Do I hear
Mockingbirds?
Maybe understand their gist?
Help me see, Through the mist.
Make a comment,
Do no harm,
Feels good to spread some charm.
Suddenly
I've tripped a detonator, an
Explosion of indignant words,
Come flying out.
Now mistakes, can be made,
But let's tell it straight,
People set,
Vague incendiary device's.
Nick Moore Jul 22
Hanging around
This little town.

Jimmy was looking at the bin,
Wondering what was
Hiding
Within?

Here's a fiver, get yourself something
to eat,
Time to get new shoes,
On them feet.

Today I heard the news,
Jimmy doesn't
Need those shoes.

Goodbye Jimmy,
I wasn't aware,
Just how many people cared.
This town isn't going to be the same anymore.
Nick Moore Jul 18
I
Like to
Think, it's permanently
Gone.

Suddenly around the bend,  
Darkness
Doth
Decend.

So alone
In the vacuum of space,
If I dissappear,
Would there be
A
Trace?
There's got to be a yin to the yang.
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