Napoleon Blownaparte
Fairly
fizzing about the ether,
fizzing like a googly,
or Mugli’s eighteen herbs
with verbs
Grimbeau
Scroodles
January 11, 2015
Juvenal
Weasel words spill out the chine
Mickey-taking sophists whisper
Sour nothings in the ear.
When water walks and sunshine showers
Blossom on sad earth
The chastised winter will concede
Ground to spring hastening
Blue dismembered times of mirth
January 11, 2015
Normality
Windblown half-moon running
chickens chased by scattered twigs,
flyblown choc bar wrappers dervish,
two taciturn Masai, a large yellow balloon,
Bladerunner and a pride of moles: rural quiet is resumed.
January 11, 2015
Wasbo
Clunk!
The drunken drongo clambers out
the egregious red slaughter van.
His
Is a face like putrid brisket chewing.
Soon
He will be sent down into the flowery furnace.
The charge:
Serial respiration with thirty-seven charges
for being a noxious twonk to be taken into consideration.
It
Is a sad reflection that such base grunge gets written about.
More
bloody darts repeats.
Dark again.
The tide is out.
I
Am not.
Grimbeau 