Smoke pause and coffee slug
Curtain sloped out window
Sucked out, outsuck drag.
Shit! Banged red exposed elbow.
Smokestained drapes: salmon peach,
Tucked comfortably in twixt
bizzy-lizzy and big green shiny pot
imagine it plonked on silver beach
the shadows lengthen, sunbathers are vexed
some move, some curl up cold, and some do not.
Little happens slow
Somebody knows.
Schnitzel! Bang, bang, thump, bang thump:
It resumes, slower, tireder, more circumspect
This time, sculpting, levelling, shaping.
Egg and breadcrumb, and season.
Then phlasshhh in the pan, some fries,
Wedge of lemon,
And flies, french.
Short-pitched attack succeeds
Clarke plays on from Broad’s
Bumper.
Bye-bye till next innings
Tatafornow
TTFN
187
Australians
Possibly collapsing
Flight of fancy!
Sid and Nancy
Necromancy
Crave still and clear vision,
you never know it could, you know.
Bad lad down,
clear out of town.
Do not darken our door
bad news boy.
Come back when we’re gone out.
Sit down hard and think about it,
what you did,
You. Serves you right, eh?
Got your just deserts.
Look at you standing
lost in long grass
with toffee in your hair,
bramble scrammed calves
and shins.
Hide from the passing voices.
You’re on the run on your own.
Outsider till the smell of onions
frying, then, caught on the horns of…
Conflicted. In two minds caught on
Hungry man: angry man.
Be nice, take your medicine, be brave,
get fed, then go back to the Land of Nod you little sod.
![[Kidwelly Castle, Carmarthen, Wales] (LOC)](https://i0.wp.com/farm3.static.flickr.com/2584/3751646063_55b3de42a2.jpg "[Kidwelly Castle, Carmarthen, Wales] (LOC)")
Seven-thirty, my life:
cider and ashtray gob, pee (an ocean).
Put the kettle on; spill, make and drink a
glass of mud. Bowel creaks and groans,
there is a hog on the roof…
now above and emptied, dig out the day
to come from the old bog road.
Could have been a toad in another life.
Maybe a camel.
Bactrian of course. Yes, that’s it!
Plonked beside the sphinx waiting for a ride.
Better than Buddy on old Barry beach,
freezing in his duffel coat.
Fires behind windcheaters,
they eat ready-made drumsticks;
glower and growl when approached with a view to a sell.
Neddy gets a toffee apple and pukes on a sandcastle ruin.
Conway not, Kidwelly more likely.
Outside toilets on the fourth floor
always a hazard to the uninitiated
The galley is a mess: the Cook’s portholes,
open, abandoned, admit the squalid
Seaspray.
‘Keel haul that Boson, Master Bates, cocking a snook again!’
Karmic three times before the gloaming
Sixbell.
Cross word addiction seeks crucifiction.
Cryptic agnostic pursues persecution.
Here comes the window cleaner in a towel.
So, splice the main brace, Mr Hands, the wind howls
the sea is incandescent maroon green,
a kraken’s wake can be seen astern.
Just there beside the gherkins.
Looks like a job for the Kropotkins.
Well, that told it how it was, put plainly.
Food and codeine taken; heavy, post-op
medicated eyes loll there in your head.
Soon the sun and you break through and shine,
Or so the forecast has it. Never give up
on a good forecast, as, one day, it might
give up on you. None of us want that, do us?,
Dawdling in the dark, bed on fire, live wireless;
bailiffs at dawn, rogue elements everywhere you go;
Poet sent to prison for life in Qatar,
Emir takes big umbrage; World Cup queries.
Peon of praise for the Tunisian revolution did it,
posted on YouTube – whoops-a-daisy!
Emir’s wife sealed the deal on an
‘ephemeral, vanity project’
(BBC Today, Tim Franks 7.40 am)
insouciance advised for Davy Gravey –
zoot alors! Zoot suit!
Zoot Sims and crystal tips;
cellulitis suspected;
floccinoccinihipillification.
Wilko’s got the big C, no chemo on Canvey;
pancreatic cancer, ‘ten months, every little breeze
and brick in the street – I’m alive!’ Roxette! I cry! Dr.Feelgood…was that the news that day?
The Tamarind dropped anchor and despatched a
purple emissary
who announced the fate of the sweet, eyed,
lovely Maiden
from the coast of Malibar
to the swelling throng on the quay.
It appeared that, for once, the trades had been kind:
the Pirates of Somali
were living it up in Bali
Chewy lamb of god & son ltd
First compact runners
Old new potatoes reheated
Fresh mint sauce of summers
Then and now under lilac cloud
Eyeshadow, outlined by cable mascara
And toothpick telegraph poles that scud
Willy-nilly, abandoned to the coal nirvana
Trees call another dusk
Grimbeau 