Diet of Wormholes
Mulls of Gawd grin slow
butt exceeding snailspace
Grub time encroaches
They call it slowmo Monday
Tuesday’s just salad
Wednesday’s shrivelled lettuce
Thursday’s undressed crab…
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Category: Poetry
May 22, 2016
Gong
SuN
(deaRth)
LyncH tUm(m Y)
lumBago
Z(sin)g-PainZ
We got twelve torsos
day tolling primrose and gold.
Syrup drips contemptuous
Nectar wrecking slurp insists.
No showers today so far.
Slowly feeling slow.
Chaotic anger.
Syrup drips voluptuous.
A barmy marches elsewhere
Looking for vittles
May 22, 2016
bLurrB
S o yO u
fEe L
likE maKing A
maRk on tHe wOrld ?
(?)
!
A wuND wHat
(aLways)
pHew
…
heAls itSelf Up aFterWord
& NamE iT
(druM RoLL)
‘GUn(gee)Truckism’
~
OOoze aBoot dat den?
sUb-Genres inclUde:
fauX geNder flUid dad(Ahh)
(y a W Nnn)
~
poStScryPtriPfliplinO
na(no-one)anism
algaerhythm & blu(es)
exPresto lipsti(ck) pUnk
miNdwipe cRing(e)WorthiEs
nobodYism
£$d
…tHat’ll do nIcely, siRe!
CatChy MonKey toO
a BB a n iCe n s d a Y
May 21, 2016
Mercurial Times
fuN ny PaPer(r) S
2xKwik-
G=gLance
Zoot rays strobe Stockholm as Sweden Burghers rise up wreckful with smash up attitude.
The whole wode world spoofs a spreadsheet of posset and dross.
Valhalla orchestra plays misty for Major Sixty-Nine & his otter Abalone:
Human race factors at play again and again over time
History stopped at 6.37 GMT
Light crimson hand cream the emollient of top choice for kNutjobs
Shares in Cochineal soar like Anna Neagle.
Theft rash at Cannes: jewels to blame.
Ferrari elopes with Mercedes –
Dante fitted up – same old Dumbass yarn spun
Eccles cake bomber found in rural microwave:
‘Little Imps!’ said a fishbowl spokeshave weeping in his absinthe.
‘Mine’s a sweeper.’ Incoholic dribble drabble if one must ask.
Caustic soda fountains are good for you.
Indolent sex safer than casual sex:
Comatose Times.
Red shank racket exposed in wetland areas
after drone surveillance by Graf Zeppelin.
Turkish Delight found in Royal Jelly:…
View original post 153 more words
May 21, 2016
fA cUP fiNaL (FroNt eAr)
DiD AnyOne Ever tEll
You (You look like The Dead Sea Scrolls!)
THat’s eXactLy whaT
I…Thum(b)pff!
(Owtch WassaTt orla bough?)
TourEtte’s 1: AsperGer’s niL
May 21, 2016
Renaissance
‘Yi y am
A Pas s
eN Gerr r
R…
‘Just walks around sweating, does nothing but sweat…and fart. Yeah, sweating and farting, and grunting too. Sweats, farts, and grunts. The man is a disgrace!’ raged Nobby, hopping shrewdly on his good foot.
‘What did he ban you for then?’
‘I called him a fat, lazy, turd.’
‘I see.’
And Henry did see. He had discerned a pattern emerging since Nobby offered to stick a hot poker up his arse in July after a lurgy. Quarterly cycles, circadian rhythms, in-growing toenails, attention seeking behaviour, and six pints of Old Tharg each lunchtime had taken their grotesque toll.
‘ I’m going down the Zephyr from here on in.
Henry was confused.
‘You mean the Zodiac?’
‘Yeah. See you Sunday.’
‘Okay, Boss.’
–
With Flo away and Headcase post-traumatically shocked from a wolfhound goring Henry was all for the quiet life. Summer had been pointless, autumn dormant, and now with winter’s onset…
View original post 61 more words
May 20, 2016
bare naked lady
‘Hello…Flo! Are you in?’
Henry recoiled nearly dropping the enriched uranium in the chicken pellets. Of course he recognized the voice immediately, Gina: Gina Orbit, quite capable of talking her way around a sizeable planet, but somehow got stuck after the piano incident with her late chimpanzee, Alf. While sashaying through town a piano had missed her shoulder by six inches and landed plumb on her head, a detached g-string had severed Alf’s head. The piano was in pieces and Gina had got off lightly with primrose catarrh and mild headaches when she heard Grieg.
‘Flo! It’s me…Geeenah!’
Henry aborted his pastime, wiped the enriched uranium and put it back in the elephant’s foot.
‘Hello, Gina…she’s climbing the Old Man of Hoy and picking up some anchovies, probably be back at teatime Wednesday.’
‘Oh, it’s you Henry’ she said with remarkable powers of perception in one so thick. Perhaps…
View original post 38 more words
May 20, 2016
The Daily Grind
I rose and chose a coffee
from the selection of available
water based liquids.
With this I had a cigarette,
which I made myself:
harvesting, drying, processing leaf,
pulping paper in a big blue pail,
extracting gas from the bio mass
and flattening it to the required
denir aboard my
miniature steam roller.
An exhaustive process
often interrupted by the need
to release toxic waste
from the tee-pee
~
On arrival upstairs in my lift
the day was revealed as misty
and the streets sweat wet.
I dropped my lighter on the floor and left it,
vowing to retrieve it later
with my extended manual claw
that hangs from the hospital bed.
A cursory take on the news
clarified the extent of yesterday’s huge explosion in China.
Jim Al Kalili showed me around Sellafield
nuclear reprocessing plant and availed me of a
brief history of nuclear energy.
He looks very…
View original post 10 more words
May 19, 2016
Splosh!
Some
whERe
…a
dog
slEEps
So, mind is unravelled, wild vermacello reasoning, synapses fizz, associations of associations. Angsty: funny to the left of, not quite centre, achy uncomfyvibe. Jolt of jilted jollyfellow. Banjo, ukelele, zither, mandolin slicers: Whoa- hihosilva. Away. Halt.
Restless & feckless; turnoverturn; hide yerears and snuggling sure, ssh, sure…
Recklessly & festlessly fetchingly and carryingly penly, paper, cup, and ashtray from chair to bed and back again, never sorted satisfactorily speaking. Saturdynite; Worzbirtheven; head sort ails; factor fix ion; lean back, more meat Ona! Quark and Lard, larkquard. Gilly-Mot: Milly-Got: Golly-Mit: Molly-Git Milly gotta gwilmon. Toot Aussea, toot? Molly git migly log gimly glimmily.
Can’t see the cross in the mindsigh!
Flora & fauna!
Spring, springful Spring!
Colours, poor favour; sunbusting, teeming, running, jumping, coursing spring. Lively up yourselves. Don’t be nod rag. Salalsocalls for soundsand noises: bell, ringtone, beep-beep, pause, beep- beep…gedditto. Puce and greymauve plinthlight cabled. Left lug picks up microwavesounds. Raviolin. Ra-rah-rah-ra…penumbral whatsitsname: hyperbolaparabolatombolaspinbola…the thing lampshades do. Raviolout. Tinkle-tap-softchomp. Bolasalad with; goods tart…
View original post 65 more words
May 18, 2016
Satire is Dead
A feeling of tundra floods the changing room,
showers preoccupied by dirty, bloody,
foot resters.
How one bleeds, unaware of the stream and
puddle under the desk the surge of red
pumping rivulets,
veinfluid villa floor mosaic slopes
delta grouted runnel and gutter.
Nero’s noblest toerag spills his last.
Vomitarium graffiti states clear:
Petronius expired here
Grimbeau 