And more...

Razorhead and Rochenko (which sounds like a bizarre Vegas magic act, but that's a discussion for another time) contribute two of their favourites, and here's another bit of Mitchell that reminds me of Wolfie, who died a couple of months ago - December Cat:

Among the scribbled tangle
of the branches of that garden tree
only about two hundred
lime-coloured leaves still shudder

but the hunting cat
perched in the middle of the scribble
believes he's invisible
to the few sparrows visiting
the tips of the tree

like a giant soldier
standing in a grey street at noon
wearing a bright ginger uniform
hung with guns
hung with grenades
who holds a sprig of heather up
as he shouts to the houses:
Come out! It's all right,
I'm only a hillside!