Forget to learn there once was jam and black
berry toast. You cannot mend a broken
heart or a broken law; fines, sanctions, cautions,
cops, courts, gaol, torture, solitary confinement,
screws, life, death, release, parole, escape, execution,
appeal, discharge, rehabilitation, detox…
commit another one: food for thunk.
Cledgy, mired coach clay, flint, chipping stone way
Or road
Demi light with stars
Open
Big front window room to roam
Sloth slinks up till dawn and bedtime: dog in
Dog out
Pooh! One is grateful for a humongous stale
Log in
Watched over by Winnipeg beavers
Well-ordered sawmill workers of Saskatchewan
Never so big as the mad at the bbc
Fawning sycophantic plum voiced on
A day to dismember ken barlow charged
By bet lynchmob for druidic noncling
With children seven so far Prince Zorba:
Not dead just snoring.
Heed the two houses dwelling opposite
Growing in daylight I cannot see what
I am writing – very exciting and
Unusual typing errors do not
Matter with a pen: legibility
Is the thing. Speak to my legible
Razorbill; get advice and nails cut.
Five a day everyday: honeysuckled.
Police in california dampen
Cold when asked about a disappointing
Flatfish takeaway from Martha’s Backyard.
Cannot see to count the spilt sugar in
Lap swept from the working surface landing
On my leg and cascading to rest like
Sand I am shorsighted and the shadow
Of my seated bulk all obscuring
All that falls before me I will smoke at
Four fifteen am. Single Ladies Final
Between Black Amazon screaming Yank
And White Caucasian screaming blond Yank
Rain unlikely and likely for grunting Spaniard
Man and grunting something Slavian man
On tomorrow, Sunday. Both of these events
Take place at the Roland Barthes tournament.
Fields of golden snails and periwinkles
Crushed by generations of bash foot
Stamping sliding budgeoning foot crunch
And make a sandpit in Paris to play in
Over the weekend and other times if you
Are rich, powerful, and influential
And it is not pissing down a deluge
For there is no ceiling roof for refuge.
To and fro: in and out of play all day
Work done over load and friction empty
Ball. Sweat is the weakness coming out we
Are oxygenerators on a grand
Scale writ large and mind still clear swift sharp
Mass, movement, power: but, slow, paused
Interrupted. Patterned by traditional
Regulation says the court is too big or small.
Time, light, weather, rootlessness, atmospheres…
Afternoon aftermath after
A tumultuous weekend of whisky
and wounds and lesions to self by self,
to self by others, and the rest of it as well.
Heavy warming windless afternoon of droning lawnmowers.
Food ingested, fish & eggs, onward and sideboard.
Sarnies & Pringlees, scabby knees’ ups…then
doppelbangers & yonyons! Feke daze in sum dazzling meddo:
krumpetities in transparent kotton; yum-yum;
mosskeytoes zip sharpish nippingly,
bugginuss as youshoe well: nerewhon gniog.
Strudelweissly hee hawed hiz whey Threwtown.
6:14 PM
Alone all day awake and asleep, done
no work, went out on the balcony: the
batman plays the Stradivarius – Blink.
What was the whisper of the sea?
Around the balustrade
What was the whistle of the sea?
Who cast me in this mystery?
When is the start of history
What was the whisper of the sea,
Around the balustrade.
Yellow is blue
The sun is gray
A sizzling sausage goes cold and older
The scythe rests in the mellowed sun
Concorde eases a troubled shoulder
Gray is blue
The sun is yellow
Tefal
Lopsided head, dead on the sloping strand.
Smooth, sea polished shingle sizzles around
The victim of a mindless, callous hunt.
Transparently, he was born a mutant runt
Misfortune dogged him from his strangled birth
Until annihilation put an end to Bert
When it came the blow was random
His assailants worked in tandem
And cornered him beneath the pier
And despatched him swift without a care
The denounement was not so smooth
As they kicked him in the ocean crude
Tefal sank but not to the bottom
His killers thought he was forgotten
But he was borne by longshore and by rip
And in Pevensey he rested in deep silt
That is until a passing fisher digging for lug
His preserved remains out he dug
‘What’s up’ said Tefal examining his head
‘You’ with saline brevity the fisher said
‘These twenty years I have been there
Dead and happy without fear or care.
Why do you give me such a stare?’
‘A hermit crab is crawling from your nose,
And there is distinct molusculation of your toes.
My name is Fred and if I might
Let’s go and show you to my wife
She is a fan of oddity
That is why she married me.’
So, from the strand they did repair
Tefal picking worms from ear and hair
And went to Fred’s house and went right in
And Fred’s wife gasped ‘Well, look at him!’
Fred explained the circumstances of his discovery
And Mrs Fred decided on Tefal’s recovery
Was plovers eggs and strawberry jam
And slices of her homemade ham
That she had cured with her own fair hand
With the leg Fred found last year washed up upon the strand.
Heroin Sonnet (One line is absent!)
Vermont’s Original Bag Balm tin laments
a pair of glasses (snapped for advertising
porpoises!), the child’s toy tractor, green
gin trapped naturally: there is floral décor
garish redolent of that chocolate
box, or some Huntley & Palmer’s biscuit tin
containing uncut Ammanford smack?
They ran him in, they ran him down: Besmirched
his name all over town. Self-righteous lazy
solemn nonsense! So, all good things must end
in silence. They were wankers and they
knew it; and he, apothecary, James
E. Blewitt refused to play their silly games.
greygray windlessness; car doors pound
indonesian summer supper
for the liberal party on the road
to greatwar to end all wars forever
hoseasoning homeward after crickets
over land and treeless villages
redsails on the lampshade sundown
silently through the porchway
eavesdropping evenings gentle snore
Grimbeau 