Minister of Musicians,
new war dance teacher,
once knew my father…
Showered, creamed, slithered,
hoody, deckchairs, big daddies…
Slipping, sliding…wrong shore grifter
little book of shrugs
sanskrit aubergine eggplant
histrionics
took fizz codeine med
brain dead inebriation
small town called chicken
do you like your eggs
sunny easy side up over
boiled poached benedict
The pain it appears has passed,
a twisted and not strangulated
abdominal fibre of being,
fleeting, frit, clinging,
nagging little sod.
All dead in crash.
I as usual am none the wiser,
interested yet not especially engaged
to task myself too hard (life’s burdensome
enough, my excuse, get out clause – life’s too short).
Who knows what the light will bring?
He’s passed again, a quick in and out,
minding his own business,
being as little trouble as.
My head! Doing a tango, having a wobble
at the drop of a hat, hearing pins drop.
You know, you know.
Night creatures: silver fish, monopods,
opaque gadabouts – a proper rumpus.
Alexander’s Ragtime Band
cut throats and ruffians,
red and rubber necks, craning,
inching forward,
onward to the din
Slasher and trombone
Candle fires livid
Imagination city lights
Softening soft sighs
coming up five now
probably gonna shower
play test match pinball
blue shed
Door
blows
open…
blue shed
Door
blows
closed…
Extermination Squad
In
Utah
Clean out
Of
Final Solution
Been a hard day’s night
Found my bollocks in my gob…
You fill in the rest
Enoch smoothed mum’s
scrawny brow with
the buttercup
‘Flamboyance, flamboyance…’
Her favourite word:
He whispered it.
She sleeps
He takes the tray
End of day
it’s a new dawn
on a new day
and i’m feeling
wood
Overwhelming surge
Wottaboutastoryday
Anna Livia
palpable sea change
calypso ipso facto
red rum chronicles
Grimbeau 