Touched
by a film
of frost,
the chill
Cascades
Waspishly
from the fanlight
Squirts
Little nips
of morning,
Bikini weather.
Motorway
neuronal
city women
fret more
about how
they look
than fish do.
Pastel shy-blue,
sky-blue
Sky
evicts
beige clouds
Twenty eight thousand
Miles out there,
just now
A space boulder
passed
over my
Shoulder.
four
back door:
elsinore
mellow
madonna
mobile
like
thistle
down
jet
plane
cries
till
next
time
1
Four:
Real good sun out there.
No showers yet: no wind.
Loud Friday school’s out.
Will I? Won’t I
Have a cheroot: think about it.
Yeah, cheroot’s a good idea.
First, get out of this walnut trick.
A hard nut to crack from within
Let alone without.
2
Out
3
Back in
4
That was nice.
So, nine to fervour underway
Make a list in mind,
A must not
To do list,
So, no list
Empty list.
Instead,
Go flowing with Brenda,
tickle salmon,
provoke Diogenes
&
smile at Joni Mitchell
floating down moon rivers
on a carousel of time
…floorsucker churns, provokes
gaspings and breathings
safe depthiness is spored
making me splutter
like a pudgy, tetchy baby.
This grief hugs me hollow.
fig lungs implode:
Lites
Bladderwrack
& oyster beards
strangle raddled eyes
Blasted by terror
we stare in mirrors
for escape not reflection.
Look there only when
lamp posts resemble fate.
‘Do-dah-do-dah-dada-dray:
Roll up, roll up!’
Lamp blacked,
eyeless equine figurine
On top of
odd Algarve shell cluster,
Rococo Chanel
Majolica,
Mickey Finns
Depictions:
…puce nouveau water, juice of absinthe,
oil slick oil, ugly carved frame, smoothly rugged
turned, crude carved canopy, gold leaf burnished,
house well-furnished, arsenic green crafted…
We
cut it up for toothpicks
and firewood.
Sent it up in smoke.
From the diaspora fug something comes.
A startled hobby horse made of old, iron bikes
painted frilly and
Twinkling
Her feeble
Patience
exhausted if
Glenn Ulf & the Moon Brethren
who tampered with
the Relic
Sock.
~
Dismayed
but unruffled
went she
stepping
gingerly
~
on skin
& snow
flakes,
& found
oxygen
consoles
her soul
cruet of heaven,
crooning grace
‘…need me till I want no more.’
Bliss
after Evensong
she
reposed
immersed in
quilted peachy luxus
idly flicking through
‘Lego, Fretwork,
and
Micky Mouse Ballrooms’
edited by
Blitz Furls,
Fred McGod,
and Paul de Koch
Look at that:
a dogged dog
who don’t play it doggo,
sit when spat at,
beg for his dinner,
or die for a queen…
whose bite is worse
than their bark,
you swallow,
gruffly ruminating
over a lamb’s leg…
waiting for a pig’s ear,
rueful of the duck’s arse,
sizing up the parson’s nose,
exercising horse sense
with the stubborn donkey…
Stiffening breeze, yew spangle,
Forsythia: magic citrus mirror
Makes sharp shrift
misty sun smiles
like an aged, kind,
two-faced familiar,
clearly warming to its task, aware:
Not long before this hemisphere
is done with for another year.
Head: Hitting midday again,
Drugless and fagless,
my knees unmet. Took a fizzy codeine
about an hour ago and went
back to my bed: Head.
Tuned into
Janacek: Grosz salon folk dances,
berserkers in tuxedos,
dead eyed vamps: Head
Jazz age Thedas, crawling
Astaire way to Paradise,
Fatty Bugattis,
fat butcher’s chops,
Cops in yachts,
lindy bops, listless sops:
Head.
Grimbeau 