Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: creative non fiction

It’s Coming Home

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Beer to throw up like
In the air & beer to drink
First half, piss call, second half,
Butt wall, third half crawl slowly
Back underground with the turnips
Sobbing sullen soft cell walls we hiss
dripping sober sticky sweat to lick…

door-gell tolls the knell of passing beast
spyrings crop circles short
some verve agents slip away in junky night
thicko suspect plots and trails of vapour cloud
reveal encrypted tissues scrunched up in balls
streaming skies twinkle like aluminium foil:
Watch Window as it falls to earth

—Such thoughts for one so young, Ickle Star, she tuckles and hurrums, baritine chesty undertones of beargrowl
—Gigglchips! Giggle ships chuckled laughing at dada gurgling waterspouse

~

Turdrum

hector with thistles

 

Just you and me then
Two faces pressed on flax
Punchy—
Can’t see straight
contorted by parallax
panoptical contusions
other big words like turd

Smoke on Our Walter

muffintime

Be bedazzled bot by the clumbrous pongs
rising unmoonlily from the jimcrack froth—
plumscrumptious filo pockets crumple sofa titbits
— enter stooge stage left bearing firewood & chippolatas
grinning from leer to leer (flashing black gnashers) —
ickle rood riding herd after three hard daze at the orifice,
slathering sweatshop slavver, rectal bleeds (occupational hazards)
meet someone’s needs— redundant runcible spoons for example—
f-f-fictive day doodles crayonise blank sable screens
(Yawn long to fill the gap- gap)
Removal men in socks pad about warily in fear of chicken neck complaints (knights of the goiter no doubt)· some things best left- defiant marjoram will not be sorely missed – pastures new neatly tonsured bridlepaths and rat runs.
Begins a torrent from a shifty rampage? Methinks prefer not to think not just in case.
Monsoon babies know the score do-dah do-dah
Monsoon racetrack eight miles high oh-do-da-day
Dawn on the fourth of July, opaque or what!
What! No Quips?

Recipes for Disaster Broth

pets

 

First turn upsides downside out inside out baby belladonna chili eyes

spliced broccoli main brace trunk squeezed sesame oil pressed down deep pan toast hard & fast

peel sweet field fedora mushroom saucers,

ignited seven noble stout courgettes, vine  tomato,

garlicky sticky sesame vestal virgin olive juices.

grass snake napalm jalapino agent orange turmeric roasted beef tomato

& pygmy pooka lime of zestful xenophone

quilted chorister jester converts handful hairy haricots inverts

afore ye go go go auld oche eye dai  cum noo scram jabberwok newt won ton

 

 

In the Dark: Barefoot

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Those feet are not mine

Not my feet for sure

 

Are they your feet?

Yours sincerely’s

 

Or someone else’s

hand me downs

Comfy

ModiglianiPortrait

 

fingers fish out oven chips
mushrooms skirmish aubergine
berserkers stroke fat scallions
moonwalking in the moonlight
profound wart heretical rave
from the crouton to the grave
—we will make you comfy
Humphrey enjoys tenderness
Nectar and ambrosia
In manageable portions

The Longest Day

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The longest day finds Paddy checking the truck oil, the twin tub acting out on the kitchen floor, its heat brittle waste tube squirting in the bauxite sink.
The longest day finds too many firsts, too many thirds, too many seconds. The customer is always right and probably white proving cake and eating it
The longest day finds scuffed cultural elbows saying never in our day. This is their day: the longest day of the year, the longest day of their lives so far.
When they stood them up to scrub them down and chided them for whimpering in the draughty corridor for wanting a wee wee.
It is just a numbers game and yours is up. Come in number eighty-seven your time has come. For godsakes give her a pot to piss in.
The longest day sees larks ascending on the Sussex downs and Rafe Vaughn Williams packing his valise for a dirty weekend in Peterborough, the Posh
The longest day they call it for some ludicrous reason. The Germans bombed the land registry there during the war. That’s why no one knows where they belong anymore.

Saturday Moaning (Kitchen Alight!)

Occasional grunts
One small dish bonito fish
Ink stone sand paper
Pink tarn volcanic ice cream
Flesh trout stream water
Quenches thirsty fire river
Comes another bloody liar

Satori

RefdueRhEreNdumMahbeNdereefUrMumerrFerendeRedmudD…
Is that a second (2nd)cousin at a table in a caFé on tHe teLly-full EnGlish diSh?
Could be—could well be, mind you…
Bin men flit in white blur elipse
‘…electoral commissariat invocated…’
ImMortal c(w)ombat gobshitEs
PowEr (fUr) Good kNot Evil doO-doEs
BooBy is coLd oubt-sidE
Woman of heart and mind you
There’s a bright golden
Hose on the meadow faucet
Sprinkle-sprink-Sprinkle
WC Fields
Lava Tory water meadows
Pastures of Plenty
Sprinkle-sprinkle little star
Four five six seven eight nine
Ten bottles of gin

live off the land

A certain comic quality
pervades this morning’s naff despair—

fed parasitic fear                                                                                                                                       its irregular bowl of oats, chill milk &                                                                                                    mandolin banana after falling fast asleep in my dressing gown

being overly mindful of insatiable time—                                                                                                had a taste of dangerous society overnight and came out the worst of it.
Then I read this:

In my room the world is beyond my understanding;
But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four hills and a
Cloud—

Starling rest room words
Embossed on chivalric shields
whose Survivor Guilt glimmers, glints
Spangles, sparkles, twinkles
In the eyes of the thousand nights
Spent wrestling with myself
Legless on a hospital bed