Grimbeau

Scroodles

October 2, 2013

Shieldings

Coming up for Noon:

Chicken & fish purchased by Poll.

No knobby-curse, no hobby-horse…

ham & eggs ate listening as…

big con speaks: poor as piss, full of shit.

After this, fearful prospects – complex phantom

horrors hidden behind the gun-ho noises

of the head boy’s gobhead, a quake

of vile thoughts sent me, suddenly weary,

back to the warmth of my duvet.

For better, Heaney’s Beowulf bolstered my warm bed and stark head

until half three: silent, dozing, sleeping,

perhaps dreaming,

phone calls were ignored. Then up to find the house empty and open,

closed and locked the cold back door.

October 2, 2013

Oooh

DO.

wee

bark

trash bin day dark

old metal pan sky,

scoured by grey blue sick traffic

air, hanging like a cowl or shroud.

Sky waits wind

to blow another shoulder

of squalor.

Dream: got up and walked away from

the dingy flint wall office;

going quicker,

just missing walls on corners.

I realize

am on a bicycle.

At the main road,

tourists wave from cars and campers.

I watch a couple getting horny

in the sitting room of the guest house,

I cycle in disturbing seated groups.

A small woman with tight knit jet black hair staggers backwards and falls

back

on a carpet upholstered settee laughing excitedly.

Roaming about,

people read papers.

We speak of what they are studying.

They drift off and out.

group are gardening for their board & lodging, pulling up shrubs and bushes.