Grimbeau

Scroodles

The Gaze

plague2

 

…that odd time of day that tells;
inbetwixt engagements;
neither fish nor fowl
grace the dinner table;
when night falls we shall be gone
Pith! Sweet deity. Kind moiety
body and soul of livid wit
customizing scandal
scandalizing custom
mirror written cipher reads
upside inside out…
oo my fucking head it span
before the lockdown fixed my gaze

Splendid Insulation (Broiled Leaf & Parrots)

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Script aborted so far soso …soo l o n g
…a viral sun shines, oily laurel spangles silver as i prowl, as i twitch divine…trust we not this internet no more?
all is invalid, up for gropin grabs, oleaginous scabs, starched collar bones
those boot boys over there
on the corner milling
looking out for trouble…

The devil is under contract
making work for Israel Hands
Isolating rubies; doing dirty dishes
periwinkling on the sandbar
thinking don Corleone
Hoofing like George Raft…

Script rejected so what nono …soo s o r r y
…a spiral moon climbs, jolly crayfish gambol as I scowl, as I down incline…trust we not this flannalette no more?
Solace fey pallid, paltry vague wan, soft focus close up
Cheroot glows straddle water
Silhouettes on ceilings
Candelabra kneeling

Wall St Imbiss

Grimbeau

madder_overview

Watched the Stasi throw
a number of people
in the sea green trabant van
while we discussed the events of 89
them call our outfit ‘Tinkletoes’ and share
unbounded optimism
for no apparent reason
with suspect passing strangers

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Chew it & Pooh It (Hoards of Babylon)

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Containment breeds estrangement

I hear you hearing
remember me
when mothballs hatch
in the secret pocket
battleship
of your
psyche

Todd Sloane

dfysg

 

 

End of day
at close of play
staying put
for night cap
to help
send me to a sleeping more sublime
I fell into a fever and thought myself a flea
transmitter in the lapel
of a diseased bailiff
transmitting gruff sweet nothing
about property and theft

On Hearing the Last Episode of Joseph Andrews…

Jean-Baptiste_Siméon_Chardin_007

 

 

Lady Booby pulled it off, little cough, wet ruby. Joseph guite beside himself refused to do his duty
Struck out alone but came beck home tail between his legs, quaffed sordidly on gallantry in the
company of dregs. The moral of this story is from gentry girls relent should you cherish freedom
and ludic punishment…

On hearing the last episode of Joseph Andrews realised by wireless on a bright spring day cloistered
in the cell, self isolated for fifteen years since the old queen quit. A Question of succession pervades
a land locked in the spasms of seasonal upheaval, spring camps on the doorstep don’t take no for
an answer…

Sylvia Simms went off into one of her deep dark funks at the mercantile type. The middling non
entity, crouched behind the barb and sheriff. Will Kempes plausible frailty of the restless ester fallen
on hard times, the implication of conspiracy to maim by neglect, she saw Lydia being drawn in to
an an act of human kkindness with alarm. What of her plans? She wrestled hard for a long bare minute.
Were five legs better than one.She grew tense and nervous. Said nothing…

Beat this into shape, make it ship shaped, a Bristol fashion, ultimately flawed by contradiction and
and by surround sound, drowning in drab pastures, talking small to a comely dyke. From faerie ring
to turdstool callow, weathers of life a plenty. There was a time when this was how it would be was
invented. Making the highway you home has extremes of variety. Water has always flowed underground.
Same as it ever was. You cannot step into the same river twice.

Coriolanus

 

1781

 

Just seems shameful like
I tried and fooled about for the best part of an era
give or take a mock heroic epic or two
as an epoch took fright & lurched back
slunk off in search of collective anonymity
I nimbly skipped on past tackles
sidestepping young bucks
playing tough on no future
beyond the shocking now

wild carding sub conned dubious umbrella firms of ill wind repute
Memorized each one in order
sidling up for the holy drop come elevenses
stopped it and plunged
into teeming bramble, inhabited by cunning stingers, vicious barbs.
Coldt vaincautious glances
fiound eye contact declined

Fad spiralling down dizzy alice selfies
smiley vultures congregate below
soon to part at the pace of a plummet
bumping into roaming spheres
before the forgotten fear of falling
came back with a sten gun

pulling out is no easy ride
boiling hot flesh pies
melting under withered skin
losing conchshell round the bend
rockaby snugly safe under silky
green envelopment

It had beeen slow to warm of late; outswung at the end of a rope
freeze framed close up grimace accompanies blank stare blurred
spectators showing off counted marbles queegly in queer kilts spun
while spooning honey most generous on steaming farls, fell into
a nanocoma and emerged from it a cinque port of my choosing.
Kent was my now my oyster. It could have been the world to me.

In the beginning was the end and that is the long and the short of it.
One finds out sooner or later Walking on mirrors is not all its crack’d up to be
Call me Aphoristo: Anything but Egg ; Housebreaker Bong-Daly
toed the party line without spoiling her nail varnish. Like Beryl Reid
said, it was all about the shoes, which in her nasal snob spoof voice
came over as ‘Shooze’. Why bitch? We’re all just as bad as one another.
Everyone dies ugly.

The swings and roundaboutsm, the ups and downs, the ins and outs, the snakey ladders in thick
toffee nylons, that wretched sound of rasping fingernail. Feverish and seeing things, brain baked by
sandfly.What happpens if i drink that orange squash i puked back up in the tumber? Could have guessed
I suppose. Be grown up grab the first thing and cover it up. Precocious uptaker of examples, trialing
and erring. Pea up the nose; head in the clouds; flying twice nightly low over ratruns.

Doors

Grimbeau

The noose was too loose, the trap door was stuck.
‘Lydia Steptoe, you are by dint of serendipity, free to roam the earth, jejune and fancy free’
The voice removed the sack. It was Mr Kipling.
‘James Hayter?’
‘None other’ said James Hayter, glowing with avuncular warmth
‘Are you pulling my leg?’ said Lydia.
‘No, dear lady. The rules are clear as custard tarts. Now off you trot, and sorry for the cock-up.’
James Hayter doffed his manky indigo topper and indicated the door marked ‘Exit’
The lights went orange. The cluster of onlookers began to hop on their right legs. Lydia stepped down from the rickety scaffold and scuttled toward the door. Before pushing the bar she turned
‘For what was I condemned to hang, James Hayter?’
‘Wasting court time with mediocre card tricks’
‘Seems a bit harsh’, she thought nodding mock penitence

Outside it was dark. The…

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Survivals

GLASS CEILING

 

 

 

A floorboard squeaks, a muffled cough, a lid shutting.
Shut the blinds and windows
wait for the knock on the door
One will come along
when the fun begins
Could take a week or two
These things often do
Grow a second skin
Give up life for Lent
Wash your hands of the matter
Turn the other cheek
inner fires burning
suddenly depressed
Grey supulchral dawn
no floorboard squeaks
no muffled cough
lid still down
ride on

Paper Moon

 

 

Fowlpester

 

 

The other side of the wind
Where the waves are absent
Save for lungfish splashing
stroll in pink straw hats down
an obligatory gangplank
for seasick whalers
day falls copious, resplendent
in the nursery window

To Have and to Have Not

Jean-Baptiste_Siméon_Chardin_007
Downstairs floor suck underway
With a hey-nonny-nonny
and a ha-bloody-hee
Gonna meet a quaker
with a banjo on my knee
killing time the old way
watch a river flow
under a complacent sun
Florrie sprayed the kitchen garden
a shiny black car drove off

Art of eyebrows sheds fresh light
Professor Marmite makes a stir
courts controversy
divides opinion
promotes indifference
chairs sitting on the fence
Splinters…sat no more
Denis Diderot takes a powder
Drowns his woes in seafood chowder
Chagrin’s cat hisses delight
Sibilant as steam in a fissure
A team player left out for scowling
Slicing blood oranges for half time
spitting in fresh face masks

A Very Strange Spanish

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Charles Tomlinson turns sights into words
Stoke of old was long and narrow
where learning to fish
teaches you to cast no shadow on the water
or the fish will flee
Poverty stricken seamstresses
shed gemstones in the dust
Well before he got to Cambridge
he knew his Baudelaire well

I must return to Ruskin and keep a journal
as i walk through a limestone landscape
like an empty vessel; quick
when the light is so much better
refracted by the driven snow
of Arizona’s Desert
not nobody elses

For change is brought by light
and not other people
casting the shadow of a doubt
where the sun dont shine

Horse Soup & Duck Feathers

A view of the intersection at 5th Avenue and 42nd Street

 

Time spent in smoke
ends in smoke
All go out in flames
or down divinely
dedicated to the marvellous nice
Everybody’s smoking
so no one’s getting high
Time up in smoke
rope a dopem, amtelope

down death row cinemas
grow edelweiss and the blue is plain azure
Palladian pillars and Mick the Miller
get lowered down in town
freedonia is just a broadway show
where everyone eats cornbread

Back home in the dull familiar
struggling like der fuhrer
with the castle gate
think I’ll go all vegan on them
to show how serious I have hope

Senseless in Gaga

2407

 

Strung out on quasars
everyone got lice
poor ickle seedy
third monsoon season
taramasalata
remnants on a crust
stealth bombers nest in
the stangest places
captain paranoia
calls the shots in Cisco

Florence of Arabia

garros

 

Ten days from Persepolis I find is quite enough
devious hand signals indicate the time to go is now
All Stan and Ollie clumsiness must be timed to sheer perfection
A well oiled ex machina riding for a maul
weaved from exotic jade bracken speeds through curve ball air:
Beaches and obelisks obsess my waking thoughts of late
like prime numbers leaning on a wall
denigrating muesli as opium for the masses
A healthy balance diet always has its knockers
Victor Frankenstein had a tale or two to tell I bet
The smell of chicken rises as Igor ends up in a birdbath

Whalespotting

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Eager to Hail Caesar before late closing rout
A frantic wait ensued prolonged by reasonable doubt.
A restless mob swelled to thirteen hapless souls
The troll who called Charles Dickens ‘Cuntface’ slunk off
in search of shadows. The Seaby was at anchor. It was tuna season
and times were so-so at the Crooked Bullet
Triremes graced the inlet coves
pastel blues and pinks turn mango
the fishers were abed
today they fell the oak tree
I claim I once planted as a child

Quick to praise King Rollo so not to miss the tide
Shipping News confounds the crew
Three kraken roost on Mizen Head
The lighthouse blinks stray tendrils
illuminating blistered asphalt
and peeling gaud on out of season caravans
A squall raddled precarious quay
A perch for intrepid wayfarers
in a cumbrous daimler truck
converted for the alpine experience
a veteran of Moroccan scree
Drifts remotely out to sea

Madagaskar

turner_yellow

 

Paused to watch in awe
as porksausage is slowly herded into
a red hot oven.
Ponderous rise to thirteen hundred handclaps;
read back through unfinished work–capable, superficial, slapdash
mild mannered…
up yours to writing courses.
Sausage time after chess defeat debacle.
Still life goes on in a glass bunion reading mad sestinas
loose limbed shambling to a close

Mist not clearing, rigid grey stays
As weary corseteers drink creamy
Chicken cuppa soups
& tongue inscrutable croutons

Corrugated tin roof soundbite din

Wet cats weeping sombre buckets
Waiting for morsels
Or dead fledglings
Lost drowned commencing maiden flight.

A quick gasper, juicy  goss and prattle
then back to graffiti whalebones
Curse those deft big hollow needles
The sky went orange: locusts

Jetflop & Samson

Amyl

 

Sunday morning scrub
Wind blows like a stammer,
winkles drapes,
dissipates
replaced by pastel
blue and pink graffiti
over thinned out chestnut woods

Fertile Ground

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Nine days into the new year spring struck the dozy Cut at ten fifty nine on the strawberry nosegay, essential oil spillage romping in abject hayloft recalled Petula and dripping rain down on this jawful of toxic fodder, still beggars can’t be choosers, so they say, but more of that anon
O! mute contorted spring  that of witch from yuledream breaks still antiseptic and vindictive in its luscous bite and repressive in its grandiose vision, all this seen in contrasted tarns of Aryan types of northern european extraction, one applies such strictures others sadder succour, and petit moi in sweet rancid pod spouting freedom crap to passers out. No this one wants it over and done with so much that she can get some quality sleep and spend precious time with her pissed neglected family and maybe by a stroke of luck meet some friends or just play walk the fucking dog as it seems these days everywhere you go there is some needy bitch on heat driving hound dogs mad, bad, and tedious to know
Now there was a blast from the decent past as if i remembered a rhythm of how to spout without stopping and looking up to see the product of my disinterred fingers weep; o for the generous rear of the cheesecake and smell of the loud rampaging nobheads stomping thunderously over the resonant needled flaw of presence and then sudden like almost stopping to consider too stark vivid options, the wild orchids and leafmould hoof persist only now as mummery, got a new one as there’s no two ways about it, what’s more besides bet it snows before next week is through, but fuck it let’s go then you and I and get those beers in Grimbeau mentioned ages back
Do I chance dare in this repair to risk the stair in darkness, or even in the flickering light in this state of twilight, distress and thirst? Onwards and downwards a wag suggests! What are you. a tomfool or an eejit tripper? Of course one will find at the heel of the hunt we all piss blood on a Friday night round here…

Wanted Man

1781

 

Toe wrapped up anew
boney walkman ascending
stares up to see
a pelican swallowing
suburbia in one gulp
curlew chicks slide down
ballooning gizzards
of sodden gazebos
~

Killed off a lot of half hours
waiting for answers
to pressing questions
moved off
eventually
eschewing time zones
transported by taunts
loose canons and silly wizards

Oliphants & Berserkers

O'Morse where art thou

 

 

ain’t got no time for messing; original thought sought; panic brought forth nowt; busy morning to chew over;
a bitter campaign; internecine warfare in the shires; who drew that line in the land?

the wind gets up apace whipping up a storm a white island volcano coughs its disapproval causing five
to perish on a far off event horizon

black holes are practicising cannibals that will eat eachother in the end engendering a pompous rumpus in
the parly houses that remain

it was then it dawned on me it was midwinter and i ought to make sacrifice to fuck all and ensure the bucklers
are fit for purpose

it was noted as odd when the supply train arrived before the vanguard and the smell of sizzling bacon
entranced our half starved elephants and berserkers

Flavella found paltry the consolation of knowing that persistence was its own reward as she gathered lilacs
in the spring scattered on the ringpull strand

A Bit of a Handful

umber_overview

 

Foot zing diminishes after redress; today was stillborn arduous;
earthquakes tremble listlessness, unlured by tallow poesy,
very nice though it seems, a can of worms called cryogenic
masochism. the rood that unglued. nothing hinged springs easy.
Where is it to go?
Forlorn in no faced media; a crowd of ones and zeros swaps;
O not to live like that if I make it through this eternal night;
topdogs of a thousand faces; lit from underneath by lime
twixt screens disposed to wander looking for a break
a let up in the bombardment reveals
a paucity of rubble heaped beside a cranky trebuchet
lightly dusted with talc
redolent of instant mash

Air Weaves

day-1

 

…radio morning:
Barg,.. CPS Snow…the Warp

and The Anarchy by Dalrymple
wherein Clive Of India
does himself in

with a rusty penknife on a luxuriant jakes…

& Eliot’s missus opts for happy pills
taken aback by Dostoevsky  elation
epilepsy, gaming

and sheer fucking Joi de Vivre

Why is this comic?
I dunno
You’re the expert
End of sonic

Head below

Heironymush Tosh springs to mind
Fat blackbird on bare mountain ash
tobacco yellow beak
beech leaf clings to dog fur
nightlights glow through mist…
Dilith strikes traditional note
grabs old hacks by the scrote and throat
invoking hostesses of rebecca
starlets and harlots rid the streets of slime
oozing under chapel doors
like strawberry juice and penury

Solent Night

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got a november sunday
got a wind early when courtesy called to say

Old Cleobury snuffed itt
a month before his judgement day
when the oriental sun
sets swiftly in the west
and misere mes deus
rings out in vestibules and bleak boutiques
across a frenzied flame grilled chard
got a sad november sunday

Young Cleobury snuffed it yesters after vespers–best go light a twilight candle…Seems seven tried and fooled about too much for an epoch give or take an epic spurt & lurking back now slunked off in search of fresh fields trotting
taking picket nimbly skipping ugly tackles bypassing bucks playing futures by wild carding every given hand
sub contracting bridges to dubious firms of hoods
each sizing me up for the drop come elevenses stop hard rest into teeming psychospace occupied by humless stingers, causticbarbs.
proceed vaincautious over casting
suspect glances confirm contact was declined

spiralling down muchlike dizzy alice snatching selfies tuxedoed beside smiley vultures often congregate below
but soon part at the pace of plummet bumping on houmous spheres
before forgotten fear of falling said no pulling out this jaunt ain’t no easy ride consider boiling hot flesh melting under withered skin
losing conchshellnesss on glossy triptych
picturebook thumbsucker
rockaby snug terror
safe inder silkinesses
creamy green envelopment

slow to warm of late; outswung end of rope pressing offal swing bridge freeze framed close up nosehair gawp
accompanies point blank stare from vacant spaces

counted marbles three to one and looked elsewhere

just before afterwards…

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…nobody seen talking when one arrived and one left on a mission to Coventry  (a unique silence fell)
felt nothing no matter how hard could not relate felt very awkward (a true quality of
light)
concave faces impress with natural reluctance to crack smiles while sedentary ( a screw came loose)
on return the ashtrays and coffee cups were absent without leave incidentally (a hound bayed blue)
stranglers and burglars concluded the account of recent deft grand larcenies ( a smell of tranquil ear)

Burning Bash

expo1

 

—Burnt out, or so you say. All burned out. Dried up, but like what—wadi or toast, wreck, ruin, candlestick or freak storm? Where there’s life…where there’s life. That’s what they always say
—Toast it is then: crusty brown wholemeal toast burnt black, iffy thermostat…
—Not bad, not bad at all
—No heart & soul mind you
—Husky, though, even a little dusky (ha-ha)
—Coffee brown roasted funnel dregs
—Still damp!
—Left out when the sun was at it’s…
—Zenith?
—Strongest
—Wow…that is real burnt!

The plague years, they said, burn themselves out.
A peculiar variety of auto da fe
It would seem to have been
Divinely ordained.

Fire starter & hosepipe surge; belle, bookie, & candelabra!
Have they moving the furniture around again?
Yes. They never stop it these days.
so much so sunshine & showers
seldom clash these days.
So well do they behave themselves.
And clouds no longer burst.
Not since many a long year.
Dry as salvages we are:
Mesos, stackpoles, arid drumlins…
Only lithographs remain,
ink shadow plays, traced on distressed concrete,
splashes wink on toppled sarsens, drizzle laps on banished dolmen…
sure it’s better than nothing, anything’s better than splat:
‘That’s what they always say’
—a coalition of crackpots, by gum!
Well Would you Adam & Eve it?
Iron Sadie morphs up
before your very bleary eyes
It defies all common sense, she said.
It ought not be allowed, she bled.
Curtains shut below but not above,
marked down the mental sentinel
Must have Gone to Hull in a handcart
On the run in Kingdom come
Caught red handed bonkers in
Fingers in the till
Golden City of tiny lies,
Pottersville emits more heat than light
ominous stench of ordure
So who was it scared the horses?
All enemies are liars
I am an enemy
Cogito ergo summer suit
Pass me a government
I think there’s one in my rainbow
Shunshine & showers wee small hours
Aha! Red biddy bam a lamb
It’s a blunderful midwife
This should never have happened
To us Old Newtonians
As June defines an end to May—

Think this this → Here
So read the legendary
stAte called (t) Ired
in-Comprehending
optionless, prone, akimbo,
gersplatted after
The Fall
The fall
takes it clean out of a body
in unholy smoke!
(that in which it all goes up)

watch it go up quick then
pfffhhhszz!
Vertical matchbox soaked in sun
The floor was too hot to walk
Back in nineteen eighty one
No-go area then: nowhere area when?

Some say emergency were slow
Slower than a fireball is fast
Grenfell tower, Latimer road
Notting hill, West London showed
Up, up, up, for what it’s worth
A charnel house in a sea of dearth

Schismism

nose

 

 

Joint effort redress complete…

read the funny papers
impeach begrudging reviews
a rare treat for imbalance to cringe

 

 

Two toffee muffins and Earl Grey tea
with almond milk and sunny honey
taste sweet after we ran for the hills,

holed up downtown speakeasies
watched a burning man fall to the ground
gape jawed onlookers caugh
the long last word ‘Catch’–

no takers came forward from the gallery

The eye of time regards us all
with scant regard
Stop fighting in the War Room
they say in hushed tones

The Prince and the Paedo
all at sea in a ropey  inflatable
–schisms fall like rain these days
confounding the living and the fed

Litmus Toast

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In the shell of the derelict Whalehouse coolies puzzle over paradoxes set by lounge bar lizards with slit me gizzards after throttling and poke me in the eye with starched cravats who feed off one armed bandits parked by signs marked exit

Once beside a time   empty handed punters   beg  favours feign worry spoof  anguished monochrome saviour  foster righteous outrage   really biding time  until soft cops came by in drag   quelling din & quenching   thirsty fires one by one

The fun had barely begun  an ill disposed hermit fell foul of a a fishy dishy   only found out to the cost later

She was an alligator at heart   who fed off a baked potato   he found too hot to fondle
A portrait of a disappointment just  for a change

She claimed that when he looked around casual took a bitesize chunk of grumble pie then settled down to face off a blowey night part lit by fazed green candle night …

Green golden sleeves droop willowy hanging limply over sable fable plots of footpads tripping lightly on elastic flagstones

 

Sneak thief nimble wily   attend the gulley snipe’s   consumptive giggles  mock echo ghoulish chatter & the splatter dash of infidels dissolves down rancid runnels

Air drains for miasma from hoop lanes where squat arched floribunda sprout from brick grikes and get mistook for feral catnip

Loss leader posies,ark the spot…fistful of sixes, fistful of sevens  overspruced suitors  don best bib and tucker stride coyly bolt upright

Besmirched by coal juiced sleet just dropping by to pass on a promise of nevermore sorrow & eternal blisses

Stole furtive kisses contacting sublime lilting learned on all things and everything you honour to neglect
overmuchly.

Meanwhile downtown Hope sprang eternal tin the human beast thanks to electric shock therapy interrupted by an outage

Episode seven: The Rape of the Lick; Five go Apeshit in Dudley Salterton (the only game in town); Deaf Mango Party Pack plays a Humdinger de Luxe al fresco

Carpal tension quelled at last by stirrup pump & gurgling unction   Going going gong rang out…Squawky Flitch prevailed over a jug of brine before  bringing up the main

During the crash of two zeros eight we consider eight fugees queuing up outside
Northern Rock in Brixton rescuing a lifetime’s savings.

Rodgered once more by de Cover Up they retreat into Insecure obscurity; battening down hatches; weathering the storm –The one that never stops

Hurricane Hutzpah hits Louisiana; Twisters blister bayou wasteland; how savage are the lakes of Pontchartrain?

Langston takes the wavy air   One in the pot One ready to go   Read above  head full of garbage gust needed to clear the space of missiles

Merrily…Merrily

NGS Picture ID:1217302

 

 

If there is no wind
drift
sleep idle whittle
while way your day
in froth and foible
idle
like an eidolon
If there is no wind…

Pierrot

Ben

 

Raves end down by the river dusk
full of puffing steamers
bracing gusts of sleet
smell of miniver & musk–

braciers glow on the pierhead
under a mackerel sky
a fisher cops a whopper
and smiles like Spencer Tracy

Smellyvision

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Smoke and toxic mists,
akin to when the bass descends
too slow for easy listening,
treacle aroma from burnt rubber bands,
green onions supply a smell of jasmine.

The toe pain subsided three hours after
a lengthy tender cushioning in coaltar,
then we caught the end of comic Rochester
find Orson air brushed pretty boy,
hamming tall dark handsome blind oaf

Room in an Elephant

yellow2

 

 

Patches of coherence cloaked in faded motley,
drawled Kansas City Enrico,
shoeless clad in shreds and patches gleaned from hand me downs,
eiderdowns, the recently drowned, and ignoring
frowns declaimed:
‘Cherokee apache crow nez perce… bury my head in them wounded hearts, them sounds of burning tinsel sizzling,
iterneee chattels, long forgotten heirlooms louch on sickly sofas
neckless headless fu manchu’ed…
How the day grew from seed of doubt to a fruitless evening of remembrance,
it will not grow old like the rest of us

Wall St Imbiss

madder_overview

 

Watched the Stasi throw
a number of people
in the sea green trabant van
while we discussed the events of 89
them call our outfit ‘Tinkletoes’ and share
unbounded optimism
for no apparent reason
with suspect passing strangers

Scintillation Street

cobalt_violet_overview

 

Phone kaputt, foot stingling, grey skies. mid November, poppies out
toast and marmite, neuronal go slow, where’s the nurse. changed pants

pulled down the wall, no hard feelings, let bygones be bygones. forgave
and forgot; appeal to greed; feed false appetites; chew over the fat over

the weather to come when the water cascades down the Appenines
hit twelve after struggling hard rawfooted through Bad Toe Gulch,

ruffled jackdaw shares with me acute consternation at the heavy frost
settling on the chocolate slates on the empty house in Lima

brackish water slakes mad thirst, one twenty in the shed, chronic
overcrowding I say when pressed and later consult a random saviour
with magenta eyes

Carmine Lakes

vandyke_overview

 
The task before you
is to take the mood of last years
winning of the esteemed competition and tell it from a
fresh perverted angle, let’s say wobbly omniscient for starters…

Three insistent knocks distracted him, the dog went off soon after.
He got up and saw the small white van: the opioids had made it.
Earlier on while watching Idol on Parade, musing on Bowie’s heroes,
and working out when exactly the truck full of dead Chinese bought it,
he had taken an opioid to kill the pain in his oracular toe.

The original is a story of divorce and reconciliation
which when the drugs took hold ended in an aircrash caused by
a wayward roguish drone, collapses in hysterics;

Fate, predestination, and indolence hide in waiting
all contained in a white lozenge that disintegrates in water.
He drew the grid for a Celtic knot haphazardly.
There were no children involved in this thought experiment.
They had perished the night they lost it
racing to not miss the last boat leaving.

What did it matter now?
There is water under the bridge.
Beware! Loose Chippings and
Smash.
That was the best thing she said

Happitalismus Rules KO

DeutshStLuke-detailZ

 

IMAGINE a handful of bitesize hunkettes
grinding and eschewing odds and winnow gunk
as wheat gets beat from from dusty chaff;
a’harvesting for instant potassium milords;
ill and non directed groups share
no such similarities;
no such what as absolutes in such
matters
of incidental fiction;
manipulation of a squashy universe of racketeers, bogus schemes and brutal intrigues:
That’s Life—thats Happitalismus; so sundry fictive people say
just look the other way if you know what’s good for you;
plenty more lying around to fill your brambled mind with;
such as…such as…such as…
This
* it is worth noting that the child whose father refused to purchase a bow wow succumbed to her injuries
as a wallflower met a sticky end stood up too close to the warm glow of endless possibility
grip it firmly shake it hard squeeze each last drop out grasshopper
rigid condensed uptight desperate dabblings in matters
outwith all known comprehension clearly aren’t your forte

Groupthinks

awesome_photos_collected_from_history_13
We threw it all away some say (mirthless prissy lips make snide asides…Buddies burst in occasionally)

Sometimes they come from outer space
grumbling like oriental chainsaws smelling of mellow fellow peril:

 

silver trembles on emerald leaf splits the sky wide open rents flaked out in gauze tropospheres sedation sifting though space junk

plunder in the sparse first light rooftop silhouette
opposite a chocolate rhombus
—a pollarded alp sprouts crumbly chimney stumps
a decapitated toblerone
topped off by a
crown green nurdle crest

Rest up on a rigid khaki stook
bladderwrack moonbeams toy
wrack stacks wobble stop
precariously perched betop

Its burden cast away
crumbledown mountain
Perambleside peaks

***

Under which the above
little fat boy wants outies
Cader Idris sizzles
protesting the right foot forward
scree flurries lapping
to reek havoc & rage & rumpus
prospect of an avalanche blomange
confined to poxy screenplay drosswork
deemed unfit for family fun
cross legged zapping seagulls with a crossbow
winging be hard blackbirds
Drives off broke folks hopping mad

grinding anthracite briquettes
coal shed solitary refinement converting then to coke hatching
audacious escape plans prompts a sudden urge to defecate
running out of temperance due silence compromised by windsock

Paradiddle drip on porchway overflowing gutters flow
an ardent dew fell overnight: Harley Hill rests in peace
The square left fallow to Emerge

*

The Cocked Up Party

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Cedric found the Marquess of Coole spreadeagled on the Ottoman with the ‘Half Life
Of Snails’ in her bloodless grip & posted the footage on Snuffchat so Henry knew
Edward G was still at large capable of unspeakable atrocity. After all the drawing room
was full up with blistered aubergines, midget broccoli festooned the architraves, and
a hairless Headcase whimpered soulfully wrapped only in a samphire ballgown.
At heart Henry had twigged the man was just a pushy upstart from Central casting;
the one they always let through, the dead loss leader, the hollow idol to kill off with
strychnine on a wet afternoon but the uranium ran out at the wrong time

Think of the afterthrill of eating chocolate in the dark and feeling a little moist afterwards.
It was all pff course and a huge charade. The long positions would still hold firm on cupidity and smarm, he thought of Peregrine out at sea huntin marlin for that snitch Veronica. Nailed up and bleeding effluent from every orifice he was lost, hooked, lined and blinkered by her gums. Henry understood too well how lesser narwhals would fold under such pressure and morph into slum beauticians sweeping up in delapidated nail bars. But this was not Cedric’s script. He always sought delineation. For him things were simply matters to order and control. With that in mind Henry set off for the bakery.

Cool shrooms and anchovy bisque, homespun alphabetti spaghetti:sounds illegible; fungal magic soused in honey.Cheryl really had pushed the boat out this time. Always too keen to please. After all
she was born nutritionist: worst acne I ever saw. She wore a homespun hood with slits to breathe and see. Takes all sorts suppose. They call her Elephant Woman. But never to her face you understand.
Well I mean how can you? Inappropriate

Some farewell letter you’d agree. Henry was agog. Edward G had legged it for good. All hell breaks loose in the utility room. The kittens go bananas at the sight of giant mouse. Henry takes a powder. A smell of camphor burning. Whose stockinged feet are poking out this time? Colonel fucking Sanders?
Smell him all over.

The Milkman Cometh

GLASS CEILING

 

 

check to see what that note
is in that cyan bottle
really do I need that wash
that banking thing perplexes me
that extinction rebellion take lambeth bridge
police stage that media retreat
world in that commmotion
workers of the world that relax
the milkman that made it through

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Property is Deft

Why the Fiddler Fixed the Roof

DJA-AD-057-Overgrown-Cottage-Reading-Chair-1000x1506

The Avocado

Babs the Woodpigeon gave issue in the silver birch by the back window as we questioned solipsism over sticky buns . Les Bleu Dragoons, Pipe & Fyffe dervishers, Slasher & Tom-Tom Tittle-Tattle, entertain us as the pallid seraph of Dumfries drops in  and from time to time utters out of the blue– but it is February after all, winter’s dogend spells an ill wind crisp blows in as horny handed thugs on drugs, sporting primrose neckties, shiny yellow wellies, hard-nut-to-crack walnut titfers, suspended on high rise hopes, twitching in direct sunlight through X-Ray Specs collude.

See the world through blue crystal galoshes  breaking in wind spirits to get up & gallop thru upstairs vacant chambers, confidential papers scatter, still a radio that plays non-stop, filling up swallow moods, trying to keep cool & tarry on, raving on like Long John Donne, aloof in trailblazer and spats, ready crispy salty dogman, star of screech…

View original post 384 more words

The Mystery Chef (uncensored)

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Cool shrooms and anchovy bisque,
homespun alphabetti spaghetti:
Sounds illegible
Cheryl really had pushed
the boat out this time
Always too keen to impress
She was a nutritionist from birth:
worst acne I ever saw
She wore a hood with slits
To see and breathe
Takes all sorts suppose
We call her Elephant Woman
But never to her face
Well I mean how can you?

Little Old Apes

1 71 41.jpg

1 71 41.jpg

 

 

Any old iron from Madchester
presents private versus public school
a sniffy cult to keep tabs on so tell me do

Was time well spent preparing
before chapel of rest muzak
on a sunday afternoon

Stuck in a full blown fall down shack
spectating collective bouts of capricious
audacity dissolving like opioids in a deep sea squall?

That’s one hell of a question
to ask of one in the prone position…

when confronted by such a chorus of indifference

Why not just admit to it?
okay yes i got a good whack for being brash with hapless slaves when they got pollarded by lunatics who got their kicks for waving pooh sticks at with real pooh and got bashed up till the cows came home for milking and it was about then a replacement substitute was found abroad squatting on the shoulders of aphids; how seldom do us little apes
learn to carry on by candlelight at all?

The Indian Summer of the Tory Party

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Cedric found the Marquess of Coole spreadeagled on the Ottoman with the ‘Half Life
Of Snails’ in her bloodless grip & texted Henry so
Henry knew Edward G was heinous culpable and twigged at once he had to go.
After all the yoke was full with blistered aubergines, midget broccoli festooned the architraves, and a hairless Headcase looked perturbed wrapped only in a samphire throw.
At heart the man was a pushy upstart from Central casting; the one they always let through, the dead loss leader, the hollow idol to kill off with strychnine on a wet afternoon
Think of the afterthrill of eating chocolate in the dark and feeling a little moist.
But it was all a charade. The long positions still held firm on cupidity and smarm
Peregrine was out a sea huntin marlin for Veronica. Nailed up and bleeding effluent from
every orifice he was hooked, lined and blinkered
Lesser narwhals would fold under such pressure and morph into glum beauticians sweeping up
in seedy nail bars.
This was not Cedric’s script. He sought delineation.
Things were simply matters to
order and control.
He set off for the bakery.

Telegraph

monday

 

Aisling muse done gone walkies
down the labyrinths of Tyre fair
repairs and ultimata haughty
hang loose on the punic air

mean auld half life swell of atoms
resembles cuddly kittens tussling
kinda neat coincidence
such simple little things
make life all worth it:
city slickers at an exhibition
exhibit very poor behaviours

Prussian blue sorted  Caesar
who now seethes inside in exile
sipping stale mint juleps
rehearsing trust me smiles

Waft

 

330px-Pearl_Poet

 

someone sent you

don’t know why

to lick the wind

and smooth the sky

to ludic blunder

watercress

to alight upon

a summer dress

 

 

Keep Out! Privet Property

Pane#2

 

 

Crippled Brits seek exile in Berlin Alexanderplatz
First world third world slipway lowers
Ulster beseiged by ghoulish superflowers
Post American mercators draw up road maps & bridges

bellicose chartists split up
inner world found durable
weak Lorenzo weeps abundantly
over lost integrity
carbon free footwear found
unavailable on spec

hands and arms open pills while
the London Review of Books turns turtles
overnight while spiderwebs
dipped in liquid nitro stop slugs

Ailing muse gone walkies
down the labyrinths of Tyre
Repairs and ultimata
hang loose on the punic air

Boat Train to St Malo

barfag

 

No urine today
No shit to swallow
Just lollop round
Chew cud ponder callow
No way to behave
On an indigent hip
Snooze on a marshmallow
Boat train to St Malo

dogwatching

manticore-700x390

 

Sat inside the morning moonlight
Digesting yogurt honey banana grape granola
Off the Bristol stools chart

There is a trap set down memory lane
Especially designed for rogue elephants
Inclined to silly pop songs

The Big Trailer

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Got underway yesterday with a pill.
Every day starts with a pill.
A pill and a coffee.
Then it begins.
The wide open vistas
on the Oregon trail
with an irascible Raoul Walsh
screaming blue murder at an empty horse
Overhead beyond the redwood canopy
an eagle soars majestic.
You could
not make it up…
Oh yeah?

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