Grimbeau

Scroodles

It…

Loner chocolate chip cookie on wood-grain surface.

Then

breaks clear, steady indigo day,

one star awake in the west, cautious

action on the horizon;

nerve

ends flapping on the wind, nerve ends

like underwater shrubbery,

waving and posturing,

sometimes

leeward bowing; sometimes starboard:

a massed rank of constant certainty.

I claim the right to dream in words.

Yesterday

afternoon I ate two

chocolate chip cookies,

the straws that broke the camel’s belly,

and now everything is blubber

& stool.

Muggletonian Homesick Blues

Fillet (PSF)

I have thought more quickly than I can write;

milk monitors;

good brandy & fillet steak;

gargantuan thirst;

the English;

nonsense;

the death of the left;

rain & clutter;

sign on you crazy Diamond;

suffer any wrong that is done to you rather than come here;

the state is an unnecessary evil;

the phones do not work.

The Enema Within

The Enema Within.

The Enema Within

Enema of the State

 

Walt sat on the armchair like a mole

 

on an
abscess contemplating how much space one can

 

waste in a single average lifetime:
forty-three hectares, approximately, he concluded,

 

lobbing his third tin of
Foster’s on the  parched hearth…

 

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