Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Postcard

Wall St Imbiss

Grimbeau

madder_overview

Watched the Stasi throw
a number of people
in the sea green trabant van
while we discussed the events of 89
them call our outfit ‘Tinkletoes’ and share
unbounded optimism
for no apparent reason
with suspect passing strangers

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Fertile Ground

2688 (1)
Nine days into the new year spring struck the dozy Cut at ten fifty nine on the strawberry nosegay, essential oil spillage romping in abject hayloft recalled Petula and dripping rain down on this jawful of toxic fodder, still beggars can’t be choosers, so they say, but more of that anon
O! mute contorted spring  that of witch from yuledream breaks still antiseptic and vindictive in its luscous bite and repressive in its grandiose vision, all this seen in contrasted tarns of Aryan types of northern european extraction, one applies such strictures others sadder succour, and petit moi in sweet rancid pod spouting freedom crap to passers out. No this one wants it over and done with so much that she can get some quality sleep and spend precious time with her pissed neglected family and maybe by a stroke of luck meet some friends or just play walk the fucking dog as it seems these days everywhere you go there is some needy bitch on heat driving hound dogs mad, bad, and tedious to know
Now there was a blast from the decent past as if i remembered a rhythm of how to spout without stopping and looking up to see the product of my disinterred fingers weep; o for the generous rear of the cheesecake and smell of the loud rampaging nobheads stomping thunderously over the resonant needled flaw of presence and then sudden like almost stopping to consider too stark vivid options, the wild orchids and leafmould hoof persist only now as mummery, got a new one as there’s no two ways about it, what’s more besides bet it snows before next week is through, but fuck it let’s go then you and I and get those beers in Grimbeau mentioned ages back
Do I chance dare in this repair to risk the stair in darkness, or even in the flickering light in this state of twilight, distress and thirst? Onwards and downwards a wag suggests! What are you. a tomfool or an eejit tripper? Of course one will find at the heel of the hunt we all piss blood on a Friday night round here…

Merrily…Merrily

NGS Picture ID:1217302

 

 

If there is no wind
drift
sleep idle whittle
while way your day
in froth and foible
idle
like an eidolon
If there is no wind…

Instant Coma

nose

 

Two whites go mad gun down real people beings
monsters die hard and ugly
raging gainst the dying
in their x ray sights

good time for a change
arrest is not an option
simply went berserk
godly in a godless world
Two whites go mad gun down real people beings

outlaw supply and demand
screams Judge Roy Bean on a green machine
weighing up his options
a disturbance in the swarming horde
Two whites go mad gun down real people beings

Jettatori (…a hidden fancy)

unnamed

 

 

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

St Within cherishes rainy days as ready made excuses
to avoid demanding chores that lurk in the soggy world out there.
Looking out on a rainy day as chill air rolls in
Wide open window admits sound of water
Thud splat on nettle;
rustlings hid under undergrowth; bird tweets and car doors percuss.
Wet days holed up in a Vellum trailer
Cheap drains spewing rain
found thrumming on the cheap tin roof.

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

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

Sunny Day…(Who do i write for? Why…for You)

170px-Sapeck-La_Joconde_fumant_la_pipe

 

Smoke

Went up

—new PopE

I Sir Sago

avatar92

Heavy duty gossamer sported shadow of a funman stumbling naked purblind golan dawn lost in cudgel citadels of Mynah where olive buds make counterpane relief crisp brittle dew on broken open ground encourage trudge tender back to trundle see near distant orange turns out pink up close up green ambiance impacts emotion well thumb read all about it in the palm of your paps soil fingers scrunched, grappling with concievables beyond incomprehension as in a one worder: baffled by gum listen up harkful as continuosity compels the feline sip unpuncted blandswill trial semolina crispen fresh white walking stick in drenched waterbath a must after outswilled pink conducive gobwash when inner voice say :’Spuchen Sie Sweinfleisch, Bitte?’ nod smiley blank surplus inner giggles giveaway twinkle eyes we no LOL no sir we gone Way beyond evil good third egress elect you bet bottom dollar constituencies of one called me myself and i sir sago. 

The Party for Moderate Progress Without the Bounds of the Law

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You remember Gonks: foam stuffed cabbage patch dolls born of an oil crisis; Mister Mennish in a way; eminently home-makeable – scissors, clear glue, felts of varied hues & farbs – you got your Gonk! Mine was called Paulus,

after a little gnome who welcomed

all and sundry

to his home.

 

My Personal Paulus disintegrated

after a vigorous thrashing

in our twin tub.

It always had

a masochistic streak…

Buggering Bizet

 

th2EO7D22A

 

Windows  windows,

looking inward looking out,

they do not do up and down no more

Could if they had necks,

or long hands and periscopes.

If they were so fortunate,

and with the CCTV linked to the telly

 

But,

that is not the same as a neck of your own to play with…

Inner scented oriental mood,
smartly shoed,
sucking on a Zube,
watching chicks insinuate.
It is now.
Can you imagine
how good that is?
Go on
Then!
~
You are smoking
Casually
Smoking?
On a street corner in the fifties.
You are wearing a hat.
It is a busy street.
High rise buildings.
People. A city. Night. Warm. Promising.
Am I right?
~
Fancy an omelet
I do.
Fresh green salad.
Sounds good.
Let’s go.
what the heck let’s go again at the witterings good work out for the digiits if nothing else.
Cut those nails, Howard Hughes. I implore you. Simply.
we got two zero one nine big time fult tilt bullshit flying oppressive radio waves goodbye to reason
is Prokofiev taking the piss saying look ma no hands to the conservatory
burning leaves with his true love
bitter sweet body of work to discomfort you in you dotage

 

 

 

bLIND bOOKS ( mORsEcODE)

wVgMZI7

 

…nORTH aTLANTIK cONVOY SHIPS kAMU kHAZI flagged cREWED bY sCUM & sAWBONE tAR AND scurvy RUMbLINGS eavesdropped fRoM AN aPPLE cART IN cHAINS sTIngING lIKE THe seaside BEsIDE ThE sEA sTop

Ottie spotted whatshisface darting through the briny meadow chased by awesome owls freshly waxed mauve incandescent as nocturmal  solifluxion  made merry with the crockery

Fleur slashed in the well drawn room acting out all overcome feigning fly girl on a swing sporting giggle and flash Commando Figtree her ruby  lipped succulence but briefly before crashers burst in to nibble little Lavinia, the scuttle fish ghoul. It was a mere afterthought  to tip the wink  to Soames it’s back to basics when the cock crows tango

In the temple Hamish craved his long lost sporren over Arbroath smokies yet on hearing the on stage ructions seized his moment to  make off  with Count Onanski’s hoola hoop on a whim. Oh to see their faces when the word gets out!

‘Slash & Burn. Slash & Burn. That’s all you hear these days…’

‘Oh do shut up and dice up your neeps. My God, is that our Hamish with a famous hoola hoop?

Exclaimed those that knew

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