Grimbeau

The blank look; the pale face;
a swingeing cut & a lunging thrust.
I am always rocking and rollin’;
pullin’ & pushin’;
puffin’ and twitchin’.
Sir Realism chewed the wasp wing
absentmindedly,
he was looking longingly at the bust of Dickens.
‘Formegandros!’ The bellow echoed around
the huge, bare bathroom.
After rain falls sunshine