Grimbeau

scatter lucky beryl cellophane gaily around cutlass island go make marina pretty pristine regatta according to will and epilogue eleven years we lived harmonious-like then whoosh sister big wind Marcia blew up some tempest like see you never did

so it seems dangling over  parchment stone bones & ashes once impudent amusements were delicately nurtured doctrines by glum Python beyond farewell all hope of fortune for I was not. I was. I was not. I don’t care now leave traveller’s checks cheat others as you did yourselves

so you see these days not even toddlers except those young enough to get free baths value spirits underground valleys and rivers or our mate Sharon’s face full of black frogs or tall tales of hundreds of dead souls on one boat

rest assured ills end when you snuff it no dark underworld tosh no judgement seats all baloney borne by hairbrain herms…