Word Doodle

I wrote this as I waited for all of my end of month reports to calculate, print, download, save to a drive. It is basically a word doodle, what I do instead of picking up a pen and drawing lines and squares on a piece of paper, mindlessly.


An Iced Vovo is a fairy princess' panty pad. The fairy prince dusts off his marzipan jacket with icing sugar hands, before he salutes and smiles. White teeth squeak under candy lips.

My infected sores ooze marshmallow. I pick at the Florentine scabs with candy cane fingers. Cherries stick under my nails.

Malcolm fell down and spaghetti sauce leaked from his knees where he landed. Squish, squish. Spot the honey dog licks his filo pasty skin.

The crybabies eyes spurt lemonade, until they get so upset they vomit lime green jelly with caramel buttons. There is always caramel buttons.

When I lick the black boy he tastes of chocolate, his blushes taste of raspberry.

Edna Smith smells of custard, her failing brain cells feel like tapioca between my fingertips. She clutches her string of pearls which flake like chalk.

We all live happily together in Rainbow Town, where the sky is blue velvet and the grass green jellies, where box cars drive on liquorice roads and gingerbread trams run on gossamer tracks. The evening sky is a thousand year egg dome, the stars, cat's eyes, blinking in the night.