Despair? Moi, Nah.
Diamond
Despair says:
Some say Ebbohla
Others Eebohla…
What is it?
We are told nothing
Never, nevvah, no…
Self combusts
On Live Telly
I slip into
Warm solace
Light a fire
On the floor
Before me
Invention
Is the child
Of
Free play
In the dead of night,
This time of year
Destiny has gone
Rhapsody is here
Melody always is
Singing like an angel
Because she is an Angel
Harmony’s a banshee
This time of year,
In the dead of night,
Look Ma, No land!
Outward bounding sounding.
Leap in the dark chart.
Trust me. Trust the boat.
Shiver me timbres, if you must.
Anchor me and I stop.
Mistreat me and you will suffer at your own hands.
Freedom is yours.
Sez whose army?
Smell cloved rind, take deep draughts of zestful Pomander.
Ambergris, musk, or civet – know not which
smell hangs round my neck.
To conceal?
Contenders include:
Old stale boxers, empty horses, prize-fighters,
ring rusted, knocked out, punch trunks.
No. Clean out last night.
Socks and slippers, forget me not when I forget thee.
Drongo alert.
Tweet, tweet, dive
Survived the ambush, another sell buy shooting:
left gazpacho kippers out flat, plumb tuckered,
gobbled up with occidental relish.
Post war: Daphnia, Delia, and Celia skip
a light fandango with Mandingo, leave him manacled,
popsickled, humbled: prone to pillage.
Pesky parishioners, villainous villagers, codpiece Carmellites,
how they muddled meddle,
wild hunters pass by like trappist hoodlums.
Silent but deadly
Past Full moon, Rowan hides it,
cloud gusts fade to wispers.
Hunters swoon with exertion,
rest in peace
on mauve nasturtiums.
Three smoked
Mackerel,
Black peppered,
Soused, left
On small plate,
Bucolic
Scenic scene
Innocents
Supper play
Or plate for
The smaller
Appetite.
three smoked fish
released from
vacuum cell
lay brown dead
Breached by blade
Ripped from
Chewy skin
Discarded
Flaked by hand,
Torn up by
keen talons
Ate by mouth.
On old black chair
In candle glow,
Undershadowed
by the roundtable’s
Archway segment shade.
Young black dog, curled up,
picture book,
on old black chair.
A bit of eye open, yellow flicker,
slowly blinking, basking. Closed.
Lids move, quick, hunting, chasing,
Running, running, running.
Stop
Am I there?
Am I in it?
He wasn’t
In mine
Splurge urge, soggy gourd
Mulch and pulp, squash
Tomato, windy beans shrivel,
Drenched, trembling, gusts
Thus love came stealing
In sable, lunar night.
Characters surge in teeming, broiling tumults
Who, what, where, what are they yarns compose
spun, weaved, forged, tempered, cast, distorted
drawing, and withdrawing breath
from titbits of storylines,
Here and there, then and now, you have
Upsizings, threats, strengths, and weaknesses:
absurdities, absurd ditties, odd ways and beings.
See all these in a blustered, supple,
yielding, ready-berried Rowan; or in a tumbril,
air, toccata, fug, or others mirrored Mindseyes,
especially on these severe, unsettled October days.
Conkers Season!
chestnuts
teeter,
Awaiting
Prep.
Schoolboy chill
Rites:
Vinegar souse,
Slow bake,
Skewer,
Twine
Lynched
Dualists
With crash-hats
begoggled
thin lipped
Engage
In phantasm
Sodium light,
venal
& splenal
grey crows
stooping prowl,
Panther black
foraging
poachers grumble,
sniffing nuts
lamped
in dreek
Soft copse
Every morning while
jumping up and down
Call out the names of
those you wish the best.
Do any of them live with you,
in the same flat or house,
the same shanty town,
sewer, shop doorway, aqueduct…?
Or someone who won’t get up,
left their shit in your way,
left the toilet seat up, snores,
had their head chopped off,
talks endless twaddle…
No?
How very surprising.
Now
Have a Nice Day.
Bury your knee at wounded heart
marry a buffet saint
Nigella’s got
Two black eyes
Mary Berry ain’t.
Grimbeau 