Movie heroes haunt me:

John Wayne, hard from his battling,
Khaki crushed against rock,
Waits for the swoop of bone-hard Asians
Who show huge teeth.

I, grown somewhat flabby,
Pyjamas drooping down me,
Sit slumped, assured of silence…

Waiting for words.


About mosomoso

Growing moso bamboo on the mid-coast of NSW, Australia.
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  1. beththeserf says:

    Well yer didn’t hafta wait did yer, yer wrote a pome. )
    Get outta’ yr pyjamas!

    Tonite on Foyle an’ interestin’ moment betw Foyle and Milner.
    Maybe yer might write a pome about it toff.

    • mosomoso says:

      I actually wrote it wearing trackies, but pyjamas sounded better. Should have asked a poet…but you know what that lot are like.

      No more poems from me for a while. People of gentle quality never exaggerate. (I’m not sure we do much at all, actually.)

  2. beththeserf says:

    ‘Pyjama’s’ conveyed jest the right tone like, T S Eliot.
    So what did yer think of developments in Foyle?
    Plot not sartorial, I mean.

    • mosomoso says:

      Plot? What’s a plot? Now on to more important things…

      Well, Milner still doesn’t know how to pick a proper grey or navy blue. That sappy supportive wife isn’t helping.

      I note that Foyle is quietly conservative in politics. Sam pretty good in that regard. Wouldn’t surprise me if Milner was tempted to vote Labour. Milner has to lose that deep and tormented attitude. It’s very vulgar.

      As for that Stalinist collaborator who called Foyle a bolshie…He’s vulgar too, in a posh way. Never mind, Foyle sorted him out. Sorted ’em all out, he did.

  3. beththeserf says:

    A very good summary with the right conclusion, toff.

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