January the 10th

It’s hard to know who to believe

Who shot the plane down?

Years of mystery reading says

Who benefits?

Or was it just a jumpy finger

an accident after all

Funny – I always thought

the leader of the free world

would have the itchy finger

And I still don’t know who benefits

except for rich men

selling arms

to morons


Copyright January 2020


Note: I wrote this poem before the Iranians admitted their guilt.

The Will

Dearest Charles

It is with heavy heart I write to tell you of the death of our beloved friend and benefactor James Modesto. It seems he had a heart attack shortly after my visit on Tuesday. 

After the funeral and the reading of the will I do believe it will not be long before I join you in Argentina where we may purchase the horse stud you are so keen on. 

Oh, and while I remember, thank you so much for the book on unidentifiable poisons you sent me. It came in handy. 

Yours Faithfully

Adeline Browbeater



Copyright October 2016



I am a substitute

in this fragile world

full of ugliness and decay

I cannot stop the rot

’tis the way of all things to fall apart

I am no longer me

the mirror shows me proof

as beauty just falls away

like flesh off a rotting corpse

stinking up the crossroads at midday


copyright May 2016

The Poetry of Death


Stock photo free off the internet



In digging for the stories

Which circulate

Amongst the dirt and stones


Explore the possibility

That after death

Words dry up like bones


Poetry is found

Within the decaying flesh

Maggots feed upon


A beautiful corpse

May write a sonnet

To the glories of the sun



Copyright July 2015