Grimbeau

Scroodles
August 15, 2015

Trance Dance

Uproarious desires

keep on moving,

bobbing and weaving,

ducking and diving,

slipping and sliding,

eel and ostrich pie

and jugs of foamy gush.

Lip-smacking jallop!

Arabian guillemot

Skulling curvy dunes

Pooh sticks and runes

Popular tunes

Rippling quick,

quick slow sand

3 Comments
August 15, 2015

Plummeting Skywards

Barbirolli more swaggers than minces

over like D’Annunzio balling crazed

‘Avanti Italia!’

I am struck dumb by her swan neck

veins taut rope glisten.

Recoil in horror.

You bet I did.

Where’s Duran Duran?

Off busking with a Pink fucking Panther.

~

Sitting on a mushroom cloud

Buddy curls up neat

now waiting for a kiss.

Hurt goes on and on.

Walking like a sumo

quince in his nappy.

See I remember some bits.

~

The Dixie Whistlers vanished without Tracey,

I consoled her briefly and moved on

to Fenchurch Street to chuck some bricks around.

This is what I’m like.

Impossible: an impossible person.

Imp. Vip. Rip.

Rest in peace very important, impossible person.

Not moi! Not I?

~

Here lies big gob, gargling blocked drain

I slept in once in Newmarket…

Wake up, Norman!

Dropped off, must have…

Hurt still on the wireless.

Barnard is risen.

1 Comment
August 15, 2015

WASP

 

Away from chaos radio and noise gadget

I try to hear my own voice.

It is jumbled, jerky, muddled.

When it hears me listening it shut’s up.

Intruder, it whispers and hides.

Another voice comes, other than mine.

Abrupt  jibber jabber.

Dissonant buzz

It stops

~

Shadow boxing:

the shadow leads two points:

it is southpaw, dogged, cunning, experienced.

I stand firm, steely jawed, granite eyed,

bleeding, unfeeling, waiting.

Rope a dope, Ali called it;

or, was that Angelo?

Zap, I’m downed

WASP

1 Comment