Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Postcard

In Fear of Place

Our Red Scarfes

Mike Foot died yesterday.

My

mind flew to

the Bevan biography:

when I read it

how I felt.

Then

there was the Scarfe sculpt of him laying crumpled

in a duffel coat with a mop for hair

and spine

This

was soon after

Scarfe had done ‘the wall’

cartoon movie sequences with pink Floyd

who were busy floating inflated pigs.

Huston and the Moby Dick

latex whales,

cast adrift by a seastorrm and floating

about the cork coastline endangering shipping.
Poor Mike,

a bit like

the latex whale himself,

as he got swamped

by the ugly tory juggernaut,

and the middle class parasites of the sdp fiasco.

I heard Owen belching out some shite

about Plymouth after the war, Argyle etc – what a dick!

I have dreamt about being looked upon with

general disapprobrium

for

frequent use of this word,

smacks of a bit of

adolescent muckiness.

there

was this thing on the radio about

Salinger and I was full of shit last night,

so it’s understandable.

The Bard of Armagh

Moderngasm organism, wheeze and

puff: chaosmos indeed. Reality

is something to be read out loud at night

to sleeping cuckoos and sparrowhawks.

A zephyr throws the yellow post-it to

the floor…’Sunder; shags; Jacquerie: Blumenfeld.’

Worramess by Wotan.

Pardon

Listen ... Rape is a polictically volatile top...

‘What do you do when the muse shows up?

‘Hide the biscuits’

‘Huh’

‘Oh yes… stands to reason five months on the frozen tundra, hunters after ones antlers’

‘Syringe your ears’

‘Not yet’

‘What?’

‘You said Ginger nears’

 

rain stops play

Wackford Squeers

Pinball and Dickens, it will rain soon: the window will be shut.

Our hero is unwashable.

His father done bad investments.

Cold uncle with the sneery clerk do not help.

What is worse is that is he must go

faraway from this familiar terror

work for Squeers and dwell in his world.

Back in London the dirty oiks cheered him

on his way and gave him a letter.

he did not read it, forgot it.

We worry about him.

He drops the letter, retrieves it from the carriage floor

and reads:

‘…you can come at night. My spilling has gone with my wallies. Pops.’

 

 

 

Humpfrey

The Fool

Bogart rides dumb waiter to Casablanca.

Greenstreet in fez and white suite whips flies dead.

We whisper secrets in the Fool & Bladder

The spies, Leech & Lamprey, eavesdrop us.

Landlord Russ Catt, Suffolk stone-licking champeen,

claims Henry the First once choked on this spot

in fourteen-fifty-three. Throbbing bulbous

bloodshot eyes are persuasive. Once he licked one

thousand stones in just one hour. Languid lipped,

pueumatic limbed, a gurgle ball of gungey

frogspawn in his throat. We departed when we

had heard him out feeling modestly pissed.

Juneday Twenty: Gloam

The lolling lion

A slow heavy fast night of clammy claw

CS Lewis wakes up the coffee hour

Good banks for the rich: bad banks for the poor.

Loose head props a sea of waxy flowers

Lolling on the blue, crucible altar;

Swimming the foamback Bosphorous caprice

Carpetted riviera road floor.

Catch the earlybird bullet to Nice!

Consideration: transportation is

Unavailable at this holy hour

Also calculate the lonely crowds of rose

That spend so much time wallflowering

Patiently awaiting a tender pruning.

Phew-a-Brew Time

English: Phew, That's a Relief See 776022

Nine and a bit of fun boy three and weak sun;

cold fingers tingle

so…

perhaps downunder for a warm and a brew.

Up since five: must stay warm. Limp lions cut no

mustard & cress

Brakefast

NPR NEWS | Listen to the Story. Eastern State ...

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.

Pawspause

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.

English: Fortress of Amberd castle and northwe...