Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: flash fiction

Time Marches Off

Cleaner, obscener, Greek God-like, romantic visionary gobshite, deified by self and mothers, receives less than enthusiastic response from beleaguered eejit trojan woman

Hoi polloi turn away sneering like Mutley at yet another abortive ruse by ludic evil genius to ground flighty, devious Columba

long slow road to equanimity stretches far ahead, distorted by sunstroke induced hallucinations, delusions of grandeur guaranteed by new toilet seat

obscured by cloud, the righteous dispute perceived flash promises of non-stop wall-to-wall sunshine on venture out

itchy feet pandemic induces potassium permanganate price hike on world markets, espadrilles nationalized in Atlantis

huge wave of despair sweeps over low self esteemers—
what is the incidence of Alopecia in Appalachia?

Dorset five held indefinitely by Etruscan potwallopers, Foreign Office remain vigilant. Time is of the essence.

Odd Job

Is there something wrong 
with everything, a flaw, 
a rift, a fissure,
the meerest hairline fracture
inbuilt obsolescence has
a lot to answer for; so,
later today dangling 
precariously 
upside down by 
the ankle attached 
to a withered yellow rubber band 
I will venture to examine 
various suspect roof tiles
If I have the time 
Or indeed the inclination

A Truffle Hunt

French polish windows,
Pathetique ripples tickle
sweetening even air,
far off a yelp, a rustle of
rushing crinoline,
a dalliance commences,
to conclude by glow worm light come dusk,
entangled in briar on damp mosses
under elephant sized zucchini.

~
Alternatively, welsh rarebit
on toasted brioche
with chives and wildebeest,
served with lashings of green tea and
Pontefract binlids, while
galoshing through seas of watercress
and camphorated hankies.

cabbage

Crack! Crushed a sequin
Silver sequin embedded
Moonlight blue table cloth
Blew a dream to smithereens
Heavy handed oafish clot
Butterflies crushed on cartwheels
Like Wilfred Hyde Whyte
With a sledgehammer

The Dust

Rain is in the air
Harpsichordal fugue
Will it or won’t it
Joni light an open fire
There’s a nasty chesty cough
Pneumoconios is it
Blue black scar tissue
Dirty fingernails
Bathful of coaldust
Red carbolic soap
Flat as a pancake
Spider hanging by a thread
Slew an open fire
Red double dragon struggles
Tying up laces
spittoon Sospan fach

Burp!

‘Shake dreams from you pretty hair my sweet one choose the day choose the sign of your day…the day’s divinity
First thing you see a vast radiant blue beach in a cool jewelled moon
Naked scrupled women call us from the far shore
Though we are snug in the cotton wool of infancy
First thing you see
Forget the night
Live with us in forests of azure
Meagre food for souls for
got
I’m telling you this
No eternal reward will forgive us now
For wasting the dawn…’

 

Sweet FA

All of us are characters
In our own twisted way
You are in my book
I am in yours
Whether we like it or not
What a terrible thing to read
Unreliable narrators
All spouting about
Fuck All

Willy Wonga

Grote expeditions
Jallop vendor charlatan
Crystal gondolier
Heebie-Jeebie aitch dropper
Or wright jon gotta new sofa
Haroun dan random ragga bush
Der ragout meister rant

Umbra

ive

not got lost
in a book since

ive

got
lost in you

Eyelash in Gaza

Mews hazed Jardiniere, rowan dappled sunlit perch,
barefoot pads patchy lawn,

jasmin somehow here sprinkles clear air act must
to musk. Whatever happened

Monday seems an age ago, time is a mystery
Lost on those ghost days

Fate spills coffee beans, kneeling aggrieved hard done by,
monstrous invasion offside,

privacy and all that J a s s — Favourite time I’ll be there
River willow smirks, snig-grr

Not on your nelly smelly Change the sheets to seagulls
impugning military/industrial complexion

Get out of it fly Not that I would ever harm a hair on its…
Still bloody stuck inside again