Too bad heavy day, frown and sigh, we watch
Thick marmaladen flies circle
Pure white perfect dove’s egg nesting in sea
green potted purple heather lavender
surrounded by grubby pink, limp bloomers,
purple legs and arms like Matisse dancers.
A hoverfly, pauses for a butcher’s,
but soon Dakotas off to pastures other –
The wasp on the chocolate brown bacolite
radio had advised so over breakfast.
‘Looky-lookky round, ya’ll!’
another bad utterance,
‘The centre ground…’ the voice said.
‘…but the centre is missing’
said a Talking Head.
Flat or what? What.
Too much Cider
Saturday night
Seemed a good
Idea
At the time.
Yesterday
Slept a lot
Barely ate
No wonder
I feel flat
This morning.
Milk & (so much) More mail me:
‘Grimmy, beat the heat with a summery shake!’
Little do they know; out of the mouths of babes and
Sucklings.
Chucklings all round, paroxysms
Epileptic fits
Now,
That’s a bone-fide
Summary shake.
Moodpaint:
wild night, wet, sheltered behind big bare tree,
sort of dawn through the petrified tree stems.
Tremble to sleep.
Waking warmer.
New place warm grey speckled yellow, yes, puce.
An apology of sunbeams.
Thirsty or what!
…rushing brook squabbling to the left: yes, down there.
Crazy notion of a little, silver trout.
No rod. Fashion one then. Can’t be arsed.
Have a splash and scoop and carry on.
Smoke pause and coffee slug
Curtain sloped out window
Sucked out, outsuck drag.
Shit! Banged red exposed elbow.
Smokestained drapes: salmon peach,
Tucked comfortably in twixt
bizzy-lizzy and big green shiny pot
imagine it plonked on silver beach
the shadows lengthen, sunbathers are vexed
some move, some curl up cold, and some do not.
Little happens slow
Somebody knows.
Schnitzel! Bang, bang, thump, bang thump:
It resumes, slower, tireder, more circumspect
This time, sculpting, levelling, shaping.
Egg and breadcrumb, and season.
Then phlasshhh in the pan, some fries,
Wedge of lemon,
And flies, french.
Short-pitched attack succeeds
Clarke plays on from Broad’s
Bumper.
Bye-bye till next innings
Tatafornow
TTFN
187
Australians
Possibly collapsing
Flight of fancy!
Sid and Nancy
Necromancy
Crave still and clear vision,
you never know it could, you know.
Bad lad down,
clear out of town.
Do not darken our door
bad news boy.
Come back when we’re gone out.
Sit down hard and think about it,
what you did,
You. Serves you right, eh?
Got your just deserts.
Look at you standing
lost in long grass
with toffee in your hair,
bramble scrammed calves
and shins.
Hide from the passing voices.
You’re on the run on your own.
Outsider till the smell of onions
frying, then, caught on the horns of…
Conflicted. In two minds caught on
Hungry man: angry man.
Be nice, take your medicine, be brave,
get fed, then go back to the Land of Nod you little sod.
![[Kidwelly Castle, Carmarthen, Wales] (LOC)](https://i0.wp.com/farm3.static.flickr.com/2584/3751646063_55b3de42a2.jpg "[Kidwelly Castle, Carmarthen, Wales] (LOC)")
Seven-thirty, my life:
cider and ashtray gob, pee (an ocean).
Put the kettle on; spill, make and drink a
glass of mud. Bowel creaks and groans,
there is a hog on the roof…
now above and emptied, dig out the day
to come from the old bog road.
Could have been a toad in another life.
Maybe a camel.
Bactrian of course. Yes, that’s it!
Plonked beside the sphinx waiting for a ride.
Better than Buddy on old Barry beach,
freezing in his duffel coat.
Fires behind windcheaters,
they eat ready-made drumsticks;
glower and growl when approached with a view to a sell.
Neddy gets a toffee apple and pukes on a sandcastle ruin.
Conway not, Kidwelly more likely.
Outside toilets on the fourth floor
always a hazard to the uninitiated
