Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Postcards from Today

A Solitary Mistah

A dead unrequited tree has fallen bridelike on the sunrise.
in all likelihood the crazy sparrows will befriend it
bring it grubs and larvae to create utopia from its folds
since castration the buffalo spaniel gives a wide berth
to prone toxic temptations sullying his vista: language,
he inferred later, leaves no trustworthy fossils

The Woman in Red

Obscenities are music to dandelions
your foul mouthed garden 
is full to bursting
Unlike bores to endure at wakes
the first to arrive the last to leave
do you recall we were happy
unwhaling a mushroom quiche 
on a willow pattern platter and garnishing it
with corrugated parsley?
By this time it was whatever it is
nobody slept well and we woke refreshed
safe in the knowledge the weeds were cursed
some days now you just serenade the brambles
when the power tools have gone shopping
when the weather is bad you write sestinas 
psychokinensis is a dandy word

 

Merriweather & Manson Make Out

Dylan movie ambles down 
below jampacked with namedrops 
cameos and zen flavour wisecracks: 
up here in the crows nest 
full of psychic anthrax
and chintzy liquorice 
the ice floes pause for thought. 
Opening the landing window & 
admitting the savage boreus-- 
What the fuck were you playing at? 
You knew about the kerosene

Swimming to Abrasia

Sleepless till gone dawn, 
took pills at five, got a few hours, 
listened hard to Alexei, Mary, 
and the bird tapping on the landing window
then let out the dog and did tai chi with a vape
before the postman had good reason to walk past. 
Thought long and hard about water 
spilling over the bridge of sighs, 
and then thought of you saying 
'Fuck me a flying gondola, upside down inside handcuffs.' 
If things keep going this well
you might end up getting  discovered. 
Then what? Splash...

The Worsewick Paradigm

Posted off that lump of shit up there above the date and time
fuck all else to do since the flea circus folded, 
the barn owl coughed,
and we burnt down the lunatic asylum
wonderful weather out there, nonetheless
no hot water to speak of, 
you await the seagull interregnum. 
Where's the presripted drugs? 
Everything but the Oromorph 
coming today. scant revenge for the Valladolid lawn atrocity, 
the blank candour of the rurales, the suffering of Juteland gnomes, 
the crisp decaying thyme of long,
deglected windowsills, the simperings of Little Matty,
the drudgery of elevenses, the carnal whelp of bob tailed dactyls
the maple leaves of bicameral arcadia...
 

A Post Card

Orifamme burst open dawn canopy back of horse chestnut plantation on the cusp of five-thirty.
opposite this old place, the beige house was dark red and outside here the border hedge  
a defiant pea green the like of which you have never seen before.
After tablet medication, you mulled over the holy thought and avian tweet of the day before 
all things bright and beautiful from the guest Rev Livermore's finest work
got sullied by the sleazy  apocalyptic six o'clock news
As you drank up your coffee you took in the morning congress of robin, pigeon , and sparrow on the
bread strewn table and it raised a smile. Then it was back to the pneumatic bed for daybreak dreams.
You woke to Wimmins Heure; hear small plastic bags are banned and amoral breast implanters from the 
continent havebeen brought to book and must cough up substantial damages.
it amuses you when a tory lady gets berated by fiery emma's cross questions suggest mealy-mouthedness. 
you are still constipated but well read up on derrida getting busted on his
trip to prague in the early seventies (the grounds for his mission to deconstruct the usa?)
as ever your words are not flowing freely; has your twitter inactive account been corrupted? 
I sincerely hope so.

Persiflage on a Mayday Pyx

You returned bearing only a keen clean sentience of an inner voice previously unheard thus impossible to speak of in slick descriptive narratives; a new voice slushing pumping ironic pellucid entropic morphemes only too willing to give way when you enter unannounced in the tranquil hours unimpaired by time’s incessant must be’s;

some say self-compassion works both ways; they say it’s good to talk to invisible friends and to say i worry about you a lot and know they will never understand and will freak out the same way too when they see no way out but up; but here in the lonely cenarial world there is just the remnants of the oleaginous rip of dreamtime in the eventless shires.

You peruse five-line entries, enforce four-line whips, smooth the cat o’nine nails, rhyme barren wombs with catacombs, eat catamites in the dolomites, get ultrasonic with catatonics–not my kind of cruise ship this–the SS Sadist. Still whatever floats your boat at these prices is that which don’t disturb the horsiest riding rough shod over crippling waves and learning to ignore the gentle thud of plaintive houris hitting patinated sackbuts; always keeping an eye open for the main chance mindset to make a run for it across the open border washed up by all waters only to find one finds occupation of the crease involves focussed awareness to achieve the desired outcomes:

Celtic knots do my wee head in (think upside the box); midday shakedown, let the blood flow in damson rivers of chicken livers; overlook five lie whip transgression; respect the rules in order to break them, just play the bloody game for once. Abide by the unwritten law of oblique estrangement during storm lashed nights, caress thunder and lightning from the north and come sunny morn, when no milk’s delivered, draw lurid conclusions– twist metal, befuddle puddles, ravage hats distressed by no real vision to speak of; respect a sloth unprovoked to rise in spite of prophecy. Read some myth for illumination. Shower or Scuba for kicks. Bear in mind a nose pegs trumps lemon air freshener. Hide corruption in a sock. Maintain standards by increasingly lowering. Nowt gets done if you stay abed. End of broadside…Ninety minutes that transformed your ustulated toe and brought disaster to a flawed grandmaster who failed to understand what was under his strawberry nose. Seasonal greetings from the frozen seas of Ross stranded up an endless glacier where we were only too aware the horses shall be sacrificed for some greater good called lunch…

Incubator

NINE is eight found wanting
stale orchids splutter
pure airways clog up overnight
no second breath come first gasper
justice thirsts as curfew darkness drains
March makes aether culprit,
Flirty snide barbs rib and niggle
vindictive zests defy belief
--when will words fall petal free?
consult yond inner demon seed
that insufferable bore that force feeds you
breast fed in orphic bubbles
drives me wild eyed to distraction
shot drops me like a polar bear
found seething raging blowing
sliced through by sabre sleet
marooned out on a dodgy asphalt shoulder starving
Only got so far that they could fake my name
before the pants were pulled down
and the sacraments began
blurted it out in dribbles and spits
left little old me in a market town alley
who would have thought it would happen here
over here of all places

Monkshood!

warm rainfall in the liturgical woods:
plump homely droplets
out of old potatoes
–olive galoshes

how strong the hay smells
turn me into your shadow
progress is glacial slow
–love every second

Plague Whale

Lost half the month already
to seasonable sloth and extreme frost,

torse spores shimmer in moonlight
two cats watch blackbirds re enacts a dogfight

Over the Solent
a robin watches on from the cankered sill
of a cedarwood pergola

The battle for britain is back to stay
with the plague world looming
how many more times can i respond?

Going the last inch at the drop of a hat
Dog tired at eight-thirty hurts

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