Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: creative non fiction

sneeze

Situation abNormal
Each and Everyone fucked-up
—hear no meets Zeno Evil

Roman Holiday

Pope meets Archbishop —
they make love, clean up, and part
on amicable terms

Hoboken Bridge Blues

Stress (I trust you
concur) is mettle fatigue.
Bridges fall down
Glorious Hoboken had
One just yesterday
I saw it on the telly this
Side of the sad pond

Suck

Hoovering half-heartedly, 
Pre-stressed steel muscular, 
stilted, stiffish, torpid
The quality of mercy 
is half-strained & falsetto 
like a doomed balloonist going splat 
on worn grey leatherette footstools, 
a real deal phagocyte enters, 
snips claggy brackish waterfowl, 
flings a crane fly in the simmering beige broth, 
shall we sport passé cotton pullovers for effect, 
muss dwindling rancid quiffs and heinous eyebrows? 
Downcast slow rise condos 
sinuate minus stucco tracery. 
others live in icky sitcom sets
it is lifestyling for sure
just not as we know it

Soul-to-Souls

The stampede continues, coughs and sneezes,
bronchial wheezes
spread more doggiedoos, half a blanket full for breakfast,
…I dream of Jeanie
with the light brown stool,
dripping on the stairwell in the morning…

The show must go on,
breath and voice,
breathing and voiceover,
timbre & tempo.
Teemberrrugh!
Little crackle cracks in an
Emerald Forest glade,
languid reindeer slopes
off, eschewing tree dust
unmoved by the wonder
we have just witnessed,
timing is everything you see,
the smell is creeping under the door,
anxious human footsteps clomp—

car insurance, benefits culture, health and safety…
putting two and two together
when nothing adds up
to a hill of beans. Yikes!

That was Sunday a week back was it?
yes last Sunday was ?
yes last Sunday was
Young Frankenstein .

Sleepless in Indianapolis somehow doesn’t have it.
Big Apple is just plain wrong.
yes you can write it off.
A Bumper Compendium of
Cinematic Carthorses
down the ages. Think
outside the shitbox
and it sure as eggs
is a shitty prospect out there
doggerlandia.

Ominous white roadsweeper crushes the car.
Fast dog craps at noise.
Deep yellow coloured lighter
obscured in part by glossy red cricket ball
quite by happenstance this
provides a striking contrast
in this tallow light.
Green tea did a trick (did it?)

Muddyford

I am ensconced in
Unsteady heady paperwork,
stumbling to a bitter
conclusion of hostilities-
mutual annihilation
looks like a gruesome compromise
between the better aspect
and the best outcome

Lawn

ides bizzy-lizzy-gizzy
effervescent blue jacuzzi

tenticles improvise
Bach, Sax, and

even Baxi does a sizzle
rizzle-razzle-mastadon

wanking on the white house

Lawn

Sparkling white rhino
Licking up Parafino

What’s it to be then?
So I ssked Martin Heidegger

Pulling out a bottle-stopper
Let’s make it a Dippelschisser

Truth is often stanger breeds
Fiction; orthodox
Seeks counter-vision

The Wreckoning

Half a month’s worth in one just night: flash torrent chaos rains, freefall-bomber hits the skids…rainy, rainy skies, up since just gone three, realigning smooth riversides, knee deep down in autumn sludge

What a difference a day can make. Summer slams its door shut. Batten up and hunker down. Get the winter brain in gear. How lucky are you feeling?

Queasy feelings rattle me, the lift abruptly shudders , time to light a candle up. Something is lodged down deep, I dare not cough it up, spit it out.

I fear the consequences of seeing my black soul writhing before me on the cruel floor. The witching hour comes. The anthracite dog will not go out in this—

Why should anyone in their right mind? Outside we dry some fire sticks, make day light, watch the last bee suckle, have one last puff on the trumpet, set the drapes on overtime, Mr Hands! We sail for Costa Teabag

In sanitised thatch cottages sad eyed sod busters float before my Jolson eyes, some optimists wave resigned white hankies from upstairs windows, the others stare blank pure dread and sweep past on the ruthless ebb

Volunteers

lost souls of america 
counter revolution count
er revolution
climb off your wooden ships
fly away
i can see from across the pond
that you are from the other side...
we love you love us
you don't need us
take your sister by the hand
lead us far from this foreign land
very free and easy

Chick: Korea

Harry S Truman rests back on a space hopper:
‘look here, if they won’t take our shit, we’re history…right Mac?
A quiet ruffling; random coughing; small collusive smirks—
the usual suspects finger fad gadgets
We could have cut the atmosphere with a skateboard…