Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Postcard

brutal huge on laudanum and eggplant

 

 

 

Foot zing alarming after redress—

stillborn labour long and arduous;
earthquakes grumble

sullen tallow poesy,
very nice though it seems,

a can of worms called

cryogenic masochism. the rood that came unglued. nothing hinged springs easy.
Where is it to go?
Forlorn in no faced media; a crowd of ones and zeros swaps ;
O not to live like that if I make it through this eternal night;

Snoopdogs of a thousand faces;

lit from underneath by lime
twixt screens disposed to wander

looking for a break
a let up in the bombardment reveals
a pile of rubble heaped

beside a cranky trebuchet
lightly dusted with talcum powder
redolent in no way of instant mash

The Dream of Homunculus

Woke up muttering astonishment, ruby jumper crushed on a damask outcrop, leapt limply from penthouse window, thought I must a crazed intruder, some illegal alien or a late night shopper carousing minus funny money,

Rain lashed Kildare High St, dead of night, lumpen teeming moonies, letting out the dogfish, floppy velvet hats, shirtsleeve weather strange, break in clouds deduced, curious chair dismantled in a narrow alley. Upturned news stand consequence, pushy driver takes the rap, formula one marauder, empty room pulsates, furnished lobby giggles, holiday let contracts, commands a salient view, bendy flat horizon, step outside on stilts, reckon high on cedar, always muddled vista, inconclusive sparrow, reverent pariah, incautious wing commander, terminally droll.

Hubristic two faced cubists should not wonder, leap of faith required, fatal blunder buster, sods conjoined by deadlock, noman torn asunder. Rhyming slang bewildered, gentle thunder applauds, door jamb screeching doughnut, head on concrete pillow. Leaping crayfish willow. Bruce Lee Brilleaux padding. Me no hip hop shopper, came a sherpa cropper. dropped a deep space hopper, insulted missus mopper, plangent belly flopper, blissful billow popper…

Tell sour story your way, pulling no prissy punches and when the time comes roundly recite the following by hearth:

How dreary the winds shriek and whine:
The trembling shadows grow chill.
O soul of my soul, wert thou mine!

O where are the stars that did shine?
The moonlight that tinselled the hill?
How dreary the winds shriek and whine!

Despair ’round my heart doth entwine,
Far soundeth my cry weird and shrill:
O soul of my soul, wert thou mine!

I’ve quaffed to the dregs the mad wine
Of passion, but under my sill
How dreary the winds shriek and whine!

’Tis thine, is the dream so divine,
That doth this vain yearning instill;
O soul of my soul, wert thou mine!

’Tis mine, here to crave and to pine
For what thou wilt never fulfill;
How dreary the winds shriek and whine!
O soul of my soul, wert thou mine!

Mews

Grimbeau

In 

 

Seamless

Sleep

I saw you

Gallivanting

 

Sumptuous

Blaze

consumed me

Juvenating

the wake

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Après Ultra (Diego Marijuana RIEP)

New Grub Street records below for future delectation; and on the ruby doorstep, a letter for Professor Phipps containing a packet of pulverised sage to keep the lonely onion happy & engaged in crazed seasonal endeavours lies. A nuclear fog subsumes Trollenberg as zombies fill the diswashers incanting the curses of Mali and smiling on the memory of Nkrumah’s wizard foxtrot.

‘Maradonna’s dead’

‘Good, but what of little Diego?’

‘Mudlarking, no doubt. Slicing dentures from washed up concubines of the East Indian in inky sepia drab. A crow observes from a tendrilled groyne. All is muted, unspectacular. Waters lap. A heat pipe giggles in Abrasia.

‘Will he wash?’

‘In good time, when opportunity arises.’

‘The crusty stench is beyond the daily luminal’

‘Crud!’

‘Poor wee Diego’

Jump the Broom

Grimbeau

bedview

The Phoney War on Slapstick Ends…
Times like this began with General Approval in deep hotchpotch jaw-jaw back of Nico’s bar and grill traducing clam-baked mongrel hoc polloi
‘Better late than never’, sighed swan necked Frieda Sluggish flicking though a growing stack of IOU’s and billet doux. Silhouetted against the bleak midwinter skyline it all appeared quite plausible to steady bogus Chad, whose tab fetish was the talk of the mobsters.
‘Flower sales sank to an all-time low—O’Bannion’s gotta magpie coming his way if things do not pick up by Valentine’s’, said Dom in matching ball gown and crozier.
Hosiery was ever a cut-throat trade; less a game of football and more a matter of life and debt. Smart plague dogs knew that much as they did their rounds of the loose limbed irons that littered the sidewalks of Prague
‘This place reeks of optimism—check out the Assassin’s Diary for…

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Nostraseamus

Shield early before the new luckdown.
Shutdown early for Juul.
El Scruffo & Bones calling up the big shots to squeal.
Morphed solid when the bowels moved blue heavens.
Continent inflamed by snoods.
Await the balsawood Liberty Ships.
Winter of ’40 revisited.
Listen to the World Service.
Narvik was a gas…

Change at the top looks imminent. Fishfarm McGove lurks in the wings.
But if Trumpington-Smurf gets ousted by The Ghost Wind
then Joey Gorky is well parked as the comeback stiff

The Plague will call the real shots if the Old Queen can see the big freeze through without burst pipes through her ancestral piles

Existential bubbles will self-combust in peripheral tantric flight
or get brought down by Tesla drones. Time for a penicillin shot.
Bawds risk the wrath of the coparphagic Lords.

Nostraseamus has spluttered…

The Letter

Most excellent fellows, it
began in quill
and
ended in shocking pink
lipstick.
Cop this for a lark!
it went on
An unsettling new style
of composition
heavy with levity

Just Sigh

Jettatori,
casters of the evil eye
Watched on in awe as
Funstick McCraw performed
household chores
Licking floors
Opening doors
Observe three jackdaws
dropping peanuts
Down disused chimney pots
‘I’ll put your head in a box full of frogs ’
Mistah Macawber said
Recall the vernal equinox
All you want is hidden there
Jettatori.
casters of the evil eye…
Just sigh
Just sigh

St Within cherishes rainy days as so many ready made excuses
to avoid demanding chores that lurk in the soggy world out there.
Looking out on a rainy day as sweet chill air rolls in
Wide open window admitting sound of water
Thud of splash on nettle;
rustlings hid under the undergrowth;
blackbird tweets and car doors percuss.
Wet days recalled holed up in a vellum sprite
Cheap drains spewing rainjuice
Psyche found thrumming on the cheap tin roof.

Plans jottings quips amount to owt…
rain she surges in the west,
Sniffs palm oil tankers torched in the gulf of Oman
Lar committed to who knows what cause or other.
Beers and bed . Terry robbed. Midsummer 2019.
Toerag blues play out.
Regrettably like Sundays
Just Sigh
Just Sigh

Call Doc & the Medics to say the cavalry is coming
Hit me with a feather Mistah Merryweather
Tickle some hidden fancy
Inside
Inside

Noman

Lit up a jasmine joss stick 
Debussy string quartet plays Cluedo 
Turn down horny thermostat 
Open fan widows 
Wine dark dawn begets 
Clear up blue canopy 
Ought one
 talk or not to talk to 
Fiends & creditors 

Who is Julia?

The meeting of the legspurts went swimmingly and crucial decisions for the next fortnight were agreed,
prescriptions were exhanged fully aware that it was a chance to check out whose who at Newbury Zoo

Loops and Bubbles mingle round the burning monk poffering fresh faggots to kill the time between
events in need of management: to err on the side of caution and riddle the fire with care.

We agree the rules of engagement for long time ahead encounters for ‘I am not Daniel fucking Blake
or Guy the bleedin’ Gorilla. Scripts changed hands in blind faith and we parted on good squirms.

Stricken while the summer quells the rabble with crowdless spectacles and canned hubbub. Dicing
with disaster down the monkey menders. Snakes eyes in a sterile mask runs the flicker show.

Two seals on a dragon trend on suspect media. Strange news from another star. Spouts a humane policy
:count you fingers first. Jaded by disfigurement we plough the short and narrow.

Have they got the urn yet? Couple of shovels of ash and bone tasteful in majolica. Not a municipal jar
Spilt in the boot of the car. Shunted by the masked mammy on the school run.

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