The day turns
on
fifteen minutes
will he or will she not come?
I have unlocked the door,
fetched out the crap,
brought in the milk.
It is very windy and
the sky threatens rain.
Things that deter unnecessary travel.
Four minutes to eleven.
Looks like a no show.
Make alternative arrangements.
Change tack.
Map out a new course.
A new modus vivendi.
What would you do if
You could walk a country mile
In risible shoes ? freedom alone can turn worlds upside down
post abstract breakfast
microwave porridge explodes while washing goolies
well spotted leopard
bananas contribute hope shiny see your face in it
black square self portrait hob
grey bronchial oatsnot hails rubbery scullery gloop spluttery honey globules
scarce golden teardrops
blow crude raspberry fanfares
forget me not sings
dried up chicken thing menace to world in top oven
watersplash revivable
for much later on
after blueberry elevenses
Forced to flee slow accident below—
dog got worried by cuss, fuss & bother
private reasons gurt & daisy small
Time slips slow-quick-slow away—
no life permitted down there after hours
(bad traffic, gridlock, ill managed all round)
Shower first thing then…gogogo
A day away after months…
Returned bruised yet unbroken
Soiled, ill kempt, dazed & bemused
No one to blame but others’
Crass impertinence during my absence—
when cats etcetera: lice etcetera
etcetera etcetara …
Episodic enema soils domino all-knowing eyeliner, smelling rosy-posies, wrinkling up blue barley blaze, singing snarl laments, waving jolly rogers, two fingers up to bloody brutes, burning perfect pitch, atop vinegary hill, picture prayer card poseur priest issues old sago wind up cry—
‘gerrup yous lollabouts for I lead to clear catastrophe’
As a one they rise in confluence to flee the pungent smell of leatherpiss and rotten grapes. This done its home for tay and jallop, pen a ballad, and settle down snug to dream of giggling gombeens…thinks for dat either way, diss gift of liff, made a hames so far—
bad blood, bad houmous, yellow nile, burning figs…
So come Slocomb scrapping, conniving, bad smell rising, bicycles unchained are no more than scooters, technoprat, hence the n-name: Scooter Slowcomb, perpetrator of indecorous road rage and ragworthy ragout, romper stomper, heart of mould, broken nasal baritone par pestilence, snag buster, cringe maker by royal appointment to the House of Cheese & Biscuits
—lead us on a merry dance, big stink. Our souls need filling up with pink creasote and love apples. My tum-tum winks, my throats a slit. Lead on McDuff. Lead on!
Quince, loyal marmaliser heft a mighty wad. Big hearted and shortsighted as Lordy Arturo Pendraggin, pinch nose of mauve snuff, veruka and blisterine: one tough geezer, well rounded clap trapper, conviver, bonifaced spouter of drivelriddles, a Sucker for nourishment. World view contaminant or ripe plump pluckable legumes and succulence, thuswise rotunda temper thunder sunjugated by munch and prickle, keeper of the nipple, chanteur of logorythm of wife, Thermal Spottie Ars—
In for a penny, in for a mound. Shake fist and writhe, boyo Bucky. The ones got your gnome ennit! Let brittle commence, Fifthwith. Chard!
Knees up, tumbledown, grunties, spillage.
The rest is herstory…
Stumbled, hugged, slurped,
puffed the grizzly, mizzly
still born grim morn
Away with the furies,
the septic harpies,
the skivvying puggled blurb,
the chivvying, nagging
behemoth of claptrap and piffle
squatting in my gnomic canyon.
The limescale crumbles line the mug
The unicorn dismantles the cradle
The dish does away with the spoon.
Everyone chips in when
Push comes to shove
At the heel of the hunt
Approaching six ye olde bells
From an obtuse crimson angle
Poised to emphasize
birdsong unfurling charcoal
lamp light found flagging
old stone rolls over moist
Far distant dawn horizon
Difficult it is to view
The world disappear
From more of a distance
Than I do at present—
David Hume wrote that just once
While dying before
Social media cropped up
Unexpectably
In the blink of an eye
At the press of a button…
Latifundium
Quite out of the blue
Extends as far as
the third eye can see
start the week with off
an epic why not
see a fine lady upon
a white horse called Uffington
over the style follow the path
sidestepping all the sheep shit
till you come on an eye socket
full of wastepaper
and suburban terrorists
dropping crap in droves
on this hill of ancient times
traffic jam & Jerusalem
lacking investment
except for more golf courses
built by subhuman eyesores
say let’s call it Bunker Hill!
Mud found in third eye
Oversight on your behalf
Foot in mouth disease
Calamity Jane holds up
the Deadwood Stage for kicks
wheelchair soaks up rays
lazy riot violates
afternoon slum boy
crept off tippy toes
just to drop you off these lines
take the chance on the quiet
while next door life is put to rites
she you understand
could easily have booked up
that restaurant by herself innit
nice to get a bit of sun on the skein
no matter what you may say
struck by Misericordia
just for laughs you understand
of course you do now
you remember what happened
the time before and
the time before that
now you come to mention it
eavesdroppers will
be persecuted by grommits
tinnitis & mice
walking is waiting
at a pedestrian pace
sitting is waiting
as a sedentary pace
which is no pace at all
running is wishing
for a simple life
far from the muddling crud
Sulksville dribbles beige
Dixie Jazztime in Valhalla·
Them posh hush puppies
Just aint working out·
pains crowd herd lower nexus·
memories flood joyful play
bring tears over years·
dat ole man blubber·
he just keeps mooching anon…
Grimbeau 