Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Journal

Been Fishin’

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Company and drink

enter the room

warm menace, sardonic, knowing, sage

Scarlatti.

When this episode, this little jolly, is over, is it

another Tempest.

An

attractive, familiar, alternative,

sickening, horrific, act of self-harm,

abuse, and neglect?

Why this lack of worth, of purpose, of me?

But,

if this is me how can the alternative

attractive familiar be denied?

Take a good look at the situation.

How does one change it, confront, combat it?

Have a nice day!

 

Sinball!

Without a hangover as well.

Forget the bottle,

you got the bottle.

Repression.

Gonna play this game of life to win:

shower at eight, sort papers, get creamed up

and dressed

and go,go,go…

 

Brunch Lake

Not clearing, grey stays

The corseteers drink cream

Chicken cup soups

With gullible croutons

 

Corrugated tin roof din

Wet cats weep

Waiting for morsels

Or dead fledglings

Drowned maiden flight.

 

A quick gasper, some goss

Back to whalebones

And big hollow needles

For fat cameleopards

Untitled

Satire is Dead

A feeling of tundra floods the changing room,

showers preoccupied by dirty, bloody,

foot resters.

How one bleeds, unaware of the stream and

puddle under the desk the surge of red

pumping rivulets,

veinfluid villa floor mosaic slopes

delta grouted runnel and gutter.

Nero’s noblest toerag spills his last.

Vomitarium graffiti states clear:

Petronius expired  here

0XQurFd

Spookies

Cannot get away

from this feeling

that I am

under constant,

insidious

surveillance.

After all,

They never stop going on about it:

The Mediums

It is difficult

not to take it

personally.

Spookies .

‘Perhaps someone is surveilling this?

comes a Little

Voice

Don’t be silly!

Whobody

in their right mind

would do that?

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Something in my Eye

Jump up!

Out yer seat?

Just joking,

looky-looky yonder…

adenoidal brother

flouts the flute.

Bloody Ingrate.

Too snotty, he say:

‘Big blows.’

A

Nosey Christian prys, sighs:

‘Clueless and Bubo black, like dead sharks are.’

Mood impetigo,

slap rose petal ointment on,

take the town drain to Vermington.

Dalai Llama, come back all is been given!

Katy Lied.

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Lay Lines

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A long path alone,

untrodden,

as,

you presume,

like so many others.

Likelyhoods are certainties, you conclude.

Breathe the same air or what!

Steady Tyger!

Who rattled your cage, Pal?

People,

just people.

People like you with

splendid agendas,

like mine,

hidden treasure,

an encrypted chart,

a musty cave,

six big,

red daisies,

bad music,

comfy

wrecking ball.

Twenty-Four

Seven

Heaven

Act of Warship

sillhouetees

Sunday.

All day.

Lamb chops,

mash or baked.

Oven.

What else?

A Leek.

Fags, need fags.

How?

Conscripts & regulars.

Shit…

Entropy

My Pale Wall

aspect

Light,

heat

and light:

utopia.

night falls

real

slow

Oil and

Water hour,

tangerine salmon

swim pink wall

pool now

showing

jejune

turquoise

tome coat

starring

three dead

famous

heads

jolly

blue Jakes.

Yucca

deadly

jungley

floods

sliding:

 

All the air

Full of hair

Strawberry…

Anabasis

portrait of a Sicilian girl

Four no rule,

no measure years,

just got back mid-morning:

soft landing,

natives just the same, not me;

too much time to think, you see,

so everything is good or bad up there.

Back with a head full of seaweed, razor

whale gore,

syphilis and carnage. Whodunit?

Ask the guy in the looking glass. He say:

Author of your own destruction

with a little help from your

acknowledgements.

Left is right.

Right is left.

No turning back

You know too much

Late Night Shopping

Omul-Capra-Goatman-299x211

Moussaka from Alaska!

Aint

Had any moose

For donkey’s ears.

Jazzy caresses

Tell me:

If you can keep your head

When all around are

Are losing theirs

You can read this.