The New `our Times' (For Mix Fénéon)

Poem By Adrian Henri


At 3 p.m. yesterday, a Mr Adolphus Edwards, a Jamaican immigrant, was pecked to death by a large Bronze Eagle in Upper Parliament St. A U.S. State Dept. spokesman said later, `We have no comment to make as of this time.'


Police­Constable George Williams, who was partially blinded by a 15 lb. jelly baby thrown at a passing pop singer, is to be retired on half­pension.


Bearded Liverpool couple put out of misery in night by drip oil heater, court told.


A certain Mrs Elspeth Clout, of Huyton, was killed by an unidentified falling object. It was thought to be a particularly hard stool evacuated from the toilet of a passing aeroplane.


2 chip­shop proprietors were today accused of selling human ears fried in batter. One of them said `We believe there is room for innovation in the trade:


Fatality in Kardomah bomb outrage: Waitress buried Alive under two thousand Danish pastries.
*(a free 1960s Liverpool version of Fénéon's great `Our Times'.)


At the inquest on Paul McCartney, aged 21, described as a popular singer and guitarist, P.C. Smith said, in evidence, that he saw one of the accused, Miss Jones, standing waving bloodstained hands shouting `I got a bit of his liver.'

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Other poems of HENRI

Love Is...

Love is...

Love is feeling cold in the back of vans

Without You

Without you every morning would feel like going back to work after a holiday,
Without you I couldn't stand the smell of the East Lancs Road,
Without you ghost ferries would cross the Mersey manned by skeleton crews,
Without you I'd probably feel happy and have more money and time and

In The Midnight Hour

When we meet
in the midnight hour
country girl
I will bring you night flowers

Any Prince To Any Princess

August is coming
and the goose, I'm afraid,
is getting fat.

Adrian Henri's Last Will And Testament

`No one owns life, but anyone who can pick up a Fryingpan owns death.'
William Burroughs