Disorderly piles
Filth, refuse, treasures galore
Goblin marketplace
By DS Davidson
Gobble it up!
By Mark Hudson
Look at this hobgoblin market,
everything looking like a bargain.
Goblins hocking wares, Bark it!
Selling just like textbook jargon.
Want an E.T movie poster?
Want a Goonies Lunch Box?
Want a Gremlins drink coaster?
Want a goblin grandfather clock?
It’s all here at this strange bazaar,
buy a monstrous rock guitar.
You’ll never figure out the chords,
or take a look at the sharp swords.
Got pests in your house? Is it your spouse?
Get this fool-proof vampire mouse!
She will be climbing on top of a stool,
or do you wish to be more cruel?
Goblins offering goblin food,
be forewarned; it’s a bit crude!
Taste the goblin fish and chips,
get a massage with chains and whips.
You can go to the dungeon below,
the stakes are high; but the prices are low!
Buy some illegal goblin beer,
wear an eye-patch and belch with a sneer!
If you want to drag the kids along,
be careful to watch who they’re among!
And if they got lost at the bazaar,
that’s less passengers in your car!
Remember to find what suits you the most,
you might even be followed home by a ghost!
Returning home, might bring you despair,
your wallet is empty, the true thing that scares!
Goblins For Sale
By K. A. Williams
“So you want to buy a goblin, eh?”
“Yes, unless you’re giving them away.”
The seller made them stand in line for me.
Ugliest creatures I ever did see.
Short with green skin, long noses, and big ears.
Lots of jagged teeth that grow sharper with years.
I studied each creature, both young and old,
picked out the right one, and paid with some gold.
“I’ll take him off the group chain. Are you sure?
He’s mean, and their bites are hard to cure.”
“Don’t worry, I’m a wizard, I’ll be okay.”
“What do you want with a goblin, by the way?”
“I’m also an artist, I’m painting him.”
The goblin growled and I thought he was dim.
“I’m going to paint your picture, not you.”
“Then you don’t need to fear me, if that’s true.
But a model should be paid. Set me free.”
“When I’m done with my painting. Certainly.”
The goblin and I left the market right then,
and he gave his seller an evil grin.
Hobnobblin’ with the Goblin
By Harris Coverley
I saw the goblin at the end of the bar in my local, refusing the stool and instead the blue-green claws of his legs grasping the handle running along the outside—he looked like a novelty light fixture. I sidled up him and asked, “So, is the goblin market back in town already?” And he replied, “You know you’re the third arsehole who’s asked me that.” I pacified him with a fresh drink, and he got to talking about his everlasting hunt for gold, his kidnapping and ransoming of maiden’s children, and his campaign of spoiling villager’s crops. And I talked about my graft in the insurance game—it wasn’t too dissimilar. The trouble came when he began to scrape through the flat white hairs on his scalp and pick out blood red fleas to snack on. The barmaid came up to us and barked, “No outside food!” And this caused a row so nasty it ended with him throwing his pint glass to the floor and slouching off out. I followed after him, but there was nothing in the street, not even a shadow of the sprite, except for something in the gutter that snatched my eye—a small flyposter, pink set, water-faded, emblazoned with its subject in tall and slim gothic lettering: GOBLIN MARKET 2021—1st to 15th August—Rossetti Square—ONLY SERIOUS TRADERS AND BUYERS ADMITTED—goblinmartonline.co.uk
at the bar’s far end
hobnobblin’ with the goblin
Jägerbombs on him
Midnight Market
By Cardinal Cox
Hacked CCTV to repeat images from a previous night
Hulking steroid-ripe ogres standing as
Bouncers – taking bribes from traders for pitches
A wall of cardboard scraps requesting crash space
For displaced folks from flooded fens
And family feuds; or information;
Or small-ads; or offering services
Flyers for gigs in front rooms
To raise the week’s rent
Zine peddler swap meet on blankets
Open bags – curling corners – crinkled covers
Book dealers on trestle tables – actual books!
Richard Allen – William Burroughs
Sven Hassel – Lydia Lunch
Each of the market’s four corners has
Music stalls with crackly CD players
Blaring vintage skipping disks
Cassette tapes for amulets hung round neck
Fragrant clouds from vegan fajitas & root stew
Laddeled into mugs, bowls or old containers
Punters pull from prepared packs
Techttoos of smart ink sigils
Sewn into proffered nervous skin
Engineers armed with soldering irons
And volt metres upgrading old
Handsets and headsets and holosets
Neural inputs flushed – cleaned – re-bored
Widened for greater bandwidth
Pharmacologist/shaman with herbs
And fungi switching on illumination
For the confused – the cursed – the possessed
Fibre optic torques for those with aspirations
Pick-pockets and secret police
Retired ravers and righteous Rastafarians
Tourists and ’tween fare taxi drivers
Sipping bitter black acorn coffee
Badges of forgotten bands – Destructors
Black Marias – Evil Macaroni – The Now
Medals from the Relief of Euston
The siege of Sizewell – Battle of Stonehenge
Some veterans legacy pawned for food
Sounds of seventy languages
Slang – cant – machine code
Two urban foxes with their limited
Vocabulary – cognitive enhancing
Chemical having entered the food chain
Wise salmon in distant rivers
Rat towns aggressively occupying London
Underground – and the foxes – mangey
Begging scraps from drunkards
Cobblers repairing boots beside the bar
While customers wince a home-brew beer
Graffiti artists co-operating on a mural
Of the market’s legendary founder – Buddha-fat
Sadhu-hirsute – third-eye blazing
Wide upon his forehead – collage crew
Ready to add Dadaist headlines
Seamsters repurposing scavenged clothes
With needle and filament wire
Mats for break-dancers spinning for coins
Street poets and rappers battling
With insults and invective – dumping
Fly-tipped verbal garbage on each
Others boasts worthy of flyting skalds
Everywhere the range of humans
Overseen by Neander-DNA expressing
Goblinz – there’s a satyr with horns
Amongst their hair – djinn gang boss
With rakshasa bodyguard gifted
Personal space – people augmented with
Hardware – software – greyware – pinkware
Smart drugs – gene spliced
And everywhere the call
Come buy! Come buy! Come Buy!
Goblin Hoard
By DJ Tyrer
Treasures piled high
Sold low
Coins scattered beneath
Goblin feet of
Scurrying salesmen
Seeking a quick profit
Eye for a sale
Keen to be gone
Before owner returns
Blazing dragon flame
Dragon Egg
By K. A. Williams
Dragon egg for sale
Price is negotiated
Excited buyer waits
Baby ostrich hatches
View From Atlantis 