Jimson plant querent
conceals Messerschmitt mindset
contorted looking glass…
of late promenading a huge
chunk of cool daytime
Quasimodo sitting room
seeks quiet fulfillment.
A washing machine foxtrots
churns clogs, dog fetches doormats.
The time is three twenty three.
World turned back to front.
top shelves are empty places –
Must go plunder
Pound Shop tundra
Three-fifteen corrupts
Hilda Swinton & Max Keiser waited up for me,
keeping me company in
the wee small hours listening
to the World Service
Friday night morphing into Saturday morning,
thinking about sunshine and summer gardens.
The bed is clean & warm.
The days are getting longer.
~
Seven-thirty erupts
In Graphine Enlightenment
Click! Wow!
Blimey O’Reilly
Blinded by nanoscience,
muscular cuddles bunch up,
shoulders forearms & neck
nape, sides, and chicken thighs
Graphine will fix it
Save on smoking beagles too
What chance of carbon dating
Superficial arrangement
Same as usual
Morphine notches up another brother,
Another sister, father, mother as I sleep
The sleep of the dead
They still feel pain
All we feel is betrayal and loss
sad small children
Eating messy candyfloss
By candle.
Mind’s eye flix…instead I stalk
awkward, push his wheelchair, crossing,
three-point-turning,
tricornering, crossing back,
leant on bedstead,
with free limb, revolve said chair, repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
Sit and sweat and look
and realize why he smells off.
The do it again.
And again. Again.
Waiting for…forgot.
Letters found under a Sea Shell,
perhaps — cockle, hermit, conch,
periwinkle…lists of ships nefarious
Whose that over reacting there?
Iffy light bulbs wax & wane
Mistook Ajax for Johnson’s Baby
No bloody wonder is it?
Are we not merely the Star’s Tennis Balls?
No we are the playthings of the Gods
All ends up at the heel of the hunt
Yes, suppose it does
How we tittered!
Just keep bobbing up and bobbing down
Watch sardonic heads barking braying constant
hanging over crowded parapets orchestra below jumpy
chuckles brassy rubber necking knowing how it always ends ie:
hit the deck and spill the beans that run out feely
heralds send forth some seventh cavalry or other yokes
cut off at the pass up some otiose defile
laters Daulis is full of knuckleheads
spoiling for a knees up decided time to do
my turn & quit wrestling lions naked bringing down
posh funhouse in Naples at the very thought snapped out
a very whimsical rice paper boatman shrank rippled vague
sun up vanished leaving dead slow women & children & you
burst out laughing for no apparent reason: the very idea
of pulchritude we regret over red mullet…
Pomes is
Commoditties
Vacuum packed starshells
Beside the brassica
Liquid cheese fajitas
Above the pistachios
Something for the weekend
The Poet
A mere commode…
So go to
work on a leg,
or,
better still,
two.
Plumb
the crumbliest,
Flakiest
confection
in the world
it does what
it says
on the tin:
Authentic
Teak
Finish
Go on,
Try it!
Yes, you can
If you like
Ike
& Tina
Tuna Chunks
Prized frazzled bacon
Eighty per cent carbonized
Off wrecked baking tray
Tabasco sausage pitta pouched
Fractal endive rainforest
Two toddler sized tomatoes
Windfall scallions
Slithered thinly scattered
In your dreams Fatso
Primrose promised me
evasion and avoidance
Get down to brass tax
after easter jamborees
lazy anniversaries
~
Father, son, and down the face
Pigsty disgrace ful
wish it away with fresh air
citrus freshener
~
That’s a bit better
focus on and gather up what was
and is to be done,
bundle them all up,
watch them fall into
ephemeral dystopias
~
gothic slab caked alabaster
slip slop slap on thick as pitch
regard the sporting complex
perusing motley queue of:
whats, whens, and how to do’s
~
put your best foot forward,
promptly fall face flat
relapsed catholic tastes stale
yellow river reds
run under beds of roses
beneath your contempt
bedding clothes smell suspect
~
Open up your eyes!
Use the can opener in
your plague ship head box
shore leave is over
set a course and go…
You only need to
watch what
you’re doing
when you
risk the
chance
of
a
F
a
l
l
Grimbeau 