Grimbeau

—where’s this to, this loaf
bound for, headed, going:
i.e up dale or down dale,
pebble dashed hailstone rain,
tinkled on torrential like,
sprinkled drips twinkling toe caps,
rainbow highlights eyelash,
sparkling water falls, splish-splash-splosh,
pink wellies slop over full of krill and saffron sea cress, glow of nightjar
sinking easterly frames a sentence served
—or whither then,
shanty townscape,
cracked up pavement
southside sloper, conscious nimble
strider flits, ramrod string bean dipped in slime mascara,
held together by slow seedy joint and spindle whispers,
‘here’s a head with an arse to follow,
in shop window selfies stoop, looking round blind corners,
taking corridors on one at a time…’
—or once overheard
talking bull or elephant
shit late night train crunching tins and little boy lunch
foil packed by lung lost parents long gone munching
french fries and pocket money,

the big hard nut who put the world to rights with a simple push of penknife
and a jammy dodger wrapper riding foolish buckler
—aint going nowhere
much it seems, hard luck stories pack ‘em in
huddled up under flapping oilskins on Bigbumpity sands,
catching your death in the faux blue lagoon,

rescued by wary poltergeists, raised as one of theirs,
minus foibles and sundry endearing characteristics

—mindbombs go off,
ham salad grenades,
sticky bun insects, cheesy carnage, comic strip square jawed uggos,
give it a rest for chrissakes will you?

Well turned stony ground wins through parched earth moiety,
unicorn fish, one of our radiators is lost,
what a bleeding shame