Moses, Moses, holy Moses!
A turn up for the books.
Four quick glances
an element of surprise.
An intriguing risk demonised.
I think of you all the time, she said.
Puking in her handbag.
That’s some love poem
~
My eyes are clouded over with self-deceit,
these words are redolent of feet
that walked proud as punch,
no more for now,
no more,
the crunch
Perhaps the radio can see
who the ocean has reclaimed
this gusty Sunday
Less a numbers game
than prurient derision
Smug as a bug on a drug
Neon hordes festoon seasides
Find macabre pokemon
Washed up after sated fish
Gold, silver and bronzed
Load up on food for thought
Leftovers after feeding frenzies
Fake it as it comes
Feel no love for humankind
Only mild revulsion
Jockeying for possession
Give me a groat and I’ll emote on hope and faith, and craic
Should you not meet me on the way, you can on the way back
From hollow land and silly land, to form and sound, and black
The song you hear will be our own and never will shirk or jack
Too good to be true, too simple to work, you say inside your head
That tapping on the roof you hear, is rhapsody robbing the lead.
Grimbeau 