Machievelli’s Lullaby
My best advice
to those concerned –
Watch the lips
Ignore the words
Grimbeau
Scroodles
February 17, 2015
Spoonless in Sparta
Where was the spoon?
The Spoon – the fucking spoon!
Water was running,
Loud and constant
running water
You left the fucking tap on!
He could just make out the familiar, nasal tone.
My eyelash is awash with milk suds
Not quite a froth
Clambering from the cereal bowl
Was arduous hard
Like pond weed
And gypsy tart
February 17, 2015
Cabaret Rusticana
The smell of sweet rancid butter
elicited hysteria throughout the herded.
Hecate’s cheesy rumours proven true.
Jack Rumplewort’s doing –
the craven emasculator –
Up to his old tricks
at last
February 17, 2015
UFO
Serendipity!
Memories remember truths
Photographs reserve
The right to disregard
Heat seeking damson Frisbee
February 17, 2015
The Tragic Disappearance of All Known Stuff
1
Worsted, Tweed, Galician calicos, reamed
cotton screed, diaphanous silks, dour,
coarse linens, Chinese screen tableaux
of mislaid epochs, safe and unsafe tapestries,
sad stacked in the old mead hall, the conference centre,
the hubristic hub of soft arrogance now
Abandoned.
2
The once sure folk have fled, melted and mutated,
The meek ones headed for the hills, they crouch
and mooch grumpy, sucking stale breadsticks
in their holes, the old caves and calcified barrows.
The diehards fought foolhardy rear-guard actions –
smouldering stockyard bone stooks stand pyrrhic
Sacrifice
3
With the Labyrinthines gone away, nature is displeased,
Ever abhorrent of void it convenes
Bison, heck, leopard, eel and titmouse,
Louse, curlew, ptarmigan, to settle
a modus of repair. They soon conclude the obvious:
You are only as good as your last, worst
Algorithm
Grimbeau 