John Fowles (Remove filter)
On hearing John Fowles fart
In the sun bathed seaside town of Lyme
Where ice cream now drips where dinosaurs once walked
pastel shaded cottages skirt the sea
And Grockles eat cockles and cobbs on the Cobb.
A writer of repute resided
A postmodernist existential philosopher
Who welcomed me into his home
A number of times, talking of his craft
His books his work and films that were made of this
...
Monday 8th April 2019 6:35 pm
Recent Comments
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Civilities
25 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Stats (To be continued)
54 minutes ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
1 hour ago
Rolph David on The Anchorage Gambit – Reflexive Control
1 hour ago
Graham Sherwood on Stats (To be continued)
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Tikumtok
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
2 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
8 hours ago
John Coopey on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
10 hours ago
John F Keane on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
11 hours ago