Query
Something smells
like burnt Mamba.
It must be
Dinner time.
How can you
play the lute
at a time
such as this?
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Category: Postcard
December 17, 2013
Kinetosis
Two afternoon:
Watched
the last shipwreck.
Those in peril
on TV
Ought to sport
cork vests,
&
Sensible brown shoes
Just in case the wind
gets up
a bit.
December 17, 2013
New Dark Age
Sleep vermillion deep on tilted bed,
blood seeped lush ooze
downslope heading headwards
deflating maculate instep and arch,
ankle, heel, and calf.
Flooded dreams of Fen, Ely, Hereward the Wake.
Airborne screech, bare bummed cackling grimalkin:
surfeit of posset. Traitors lurk amongst
liturgy and reeded, boggy hollow.
The Wash will out the Crown.
December 16, 2013
Jape
Subscribe: Free Calendar! A year in Sing-Sing.
Habeas corpus or what? Amnesty.
Ethical gift to salve the conscious conscience.
Place on cardboard coffee table to catch
the eyes of passers-by, nod frownfully
in silent solace, go wild ape and shout:
‘Owzat!’
Then, from red animate to grey plausible go
do your best sepulchral Arlott:
‘Calendar caught Eye bowled Jaffa.’
December 15, 2013
Knee Bay
So, poor thing you lost a leg
&
kept your feet.
Do you need
a garter, a kneepad,
or some spare
Trouser legs?
You only need to ask
see the bright
from the dark.
Tell me what you see,
Grasshopper?
December 15, 2013
Squeezebox
gift your worst enemies:
deep sea anemones
December 15, 2013
Eggman
Loosen
Dismantle that cord leash
Get to know a feather boa.
Feel fine hair attend your neck,
Floss, gossamer and flim.
‘Who was that me once know’
Mister Morphosis sinuated.
Giggle on the down slope
Hands off: Freewheeling.
Joy for Joy’s sake
Cherish the maybes
Let regret fleet
A phase of years
Some are called days
Better to have lost and loved
Than never to have lost at all.
December 14, 2013
Footie
Saturday night becomes a spectre:
A
Dance of the Dead.
Stricken Done Prancing.
Headlines without deadlines.
Bleeding is bad for the sole.
Haemo-Goblin hobbling.
Hopalong Prosody.
Hogwards
December 14, 2013
Insult to Injury
Mortality spooned high and heaped:
thick cold blisters, ampule-like.
Reason’s varicose vanity disgorges
on cheap wall-to-wall.
No pulse.
It was all in vein,
nano hulks flap brief resistance
unflapped flow proceeds.
Thumb pressure,
white nailed myopic frogman.
Sleep above the waves.
Beneath the wined ark corpuscles
All them short lives.
December 6, 2013
Passing Clouds
Approaching Four:
Darkening December Afternoon.
Radio and slippers on.
No pipe, or Drum,
or wattle daub.
No dread tattoo.
Still too early for the Angelus bell
– no one sounds one round here anyway –
not that I’ve heard.
Never saw one neither.
Leafy swell yesterday,
clear night so far,
foggy dew unlikely.
