Grimbeau

Scroodles

Category: Postcards from Today

Fertile Ground

2688 (1)
Nine days into the new year spring struck the dozy Cut at ten fifty nine on the strawberry nosegay, essential oil spillage romping in abject hayloft recalled Petula and dripping rain down on this jawful of toxic fodder, still beggars can’t be choosers, so they say, but more of that anon
O! mute contorted spring  that of witch from yuledream breaks still antiseptic and vindictive in its luscous bite and repressive in its grandiose vision, all this seen in contrasted tarns of Aryan types of northern european extraction, one applies such strictures others sadder succour, and petit moi in sweet rancid pod spouting freedom crap to passers out. No this one wants it over and done with so much that she can get some quality sleep and spend precious time with her pissed neglected family and maybe by a stroke of luck meet some friends or just play walk the fucking dog as it seems these days everywhere you go there is some needy bitch on heat driving hound dogs mad, bad, and tedious to know
Now there was a blast from the decent past as if i remembered a rhythm of how to spout without stopping and looking up to see the product of my disinterred fingers weep; o for the generous rear of the cheesecake and smell of the loud rampaging nobheads stomping thunderously over the resonant needled flaw of presence and then sudden like almost stopping to consider too stark vivid options, the wild orchids and leafmould hoof persist only now as mummery, got a new one as there’s no two ways about it, what’s more besides bet it snows before next week is through, but fuck it let’s go then you and I and get those beers in Grimbeau mentioned ages back
Do I chance dare in this repair to risk the stair in darkness, or even in the flickering light in this state of twilight, distress and thirst? Onwards and downwards a wag suggests! What are you. a tomfool or an eejit tripper? Of course one will find at the heel of the hunt we all piss blood on a Friday night round here…

Schismism

nose

 

 

Joint effort redress complete…

read the funny papers
impeach begrudging reviews
a rare treat for imbalance to cringe

 

 

Two toffee muffins and Earl Grey tea
with almond milk and sunny honey
taste sweet after we ran for the hills,

holed up downtown speakeasies
watched a burning man fall to the ground
gape jawed onlookers caugh
the long last word ‘Catch’–

no takers came forward from the gallery

The eye of time regards us all
with scant regard
Stop fighting in the War Room
they say in hushed tones

The Prince and the Paedo
all at sea in a ropey  inflatable
–schisms fall like rain these days
confounding the living and the fed

Wall St Imbiss

madder_overview

 

Watched the Stasi throw
a number of people
in the sea green trabant van
while we discussed the events of 89
them call our outfit ‘Tinkletoes’ and share
unbounded optimism
for no apparent reason
with suspect passing strangers

tumblr_mcusnkEx6z1rf089no1_400

Property is Deft

Sunny Day…(Who do i write for? Why…for You)

170px-Sapeck-La_Joconde_fumant_la_pipe

 

Smoke

Went up

—new PopE

Up!

8okLzOy
Dimbleby & Hastings
hang the bunting up
on teal houses in the street
How we stood alone that day
watching on
to see how it
went down upstairs–
applause politely ripples

08:57 31/05/2019
greyed over chilly wind passes over jade
Ascension
— Island Day devotions–
will we kick a fussball round?
Careful peel a pear pensive,
collectively forget
where we was going.
Ate fruit unawares so i did.

Scant improvement dick notes
Gumshoe Strawberries on the turn
Still no sign from the Gooseberry Bash.
Flights of fancy borne well in mind–
must we really turn to dust and gas?

Idle gossippers gather round
to spoonfeed eaglets.

Thurible attention to detail.
Fairly sent me…Up
Still No complaints on that score.
Gloria! Gloria! Gloria!
Wildlife teems abounds cavorts rampages thrives
scowls predates attacks…
observes silk purse sows ear sensation news breaks law:
Luther Vandros he gone ate my Ramparts!
Might just go lie down now upsince four.

Ain’t no Burn in Hell

basquiat

 

Hooker’n’Heat at the Toady Prom
Feeling has gone memory stays on
Rampant maple leaves appear
like marigolds in moonscapes
rising through the morning mist
when i pull the cerise drapes
and play the damn fool blues
drinking in the morning news
Breath:
Two fingers below omphalos
like the past a foreign country
in myrtle overgrown persists
Served my time in solitary
let that boy boogie woogie

When will it begin

3000


facing up to facts ; my god what have i done
uninvented the wheel 
mislaid a chocolate orange ; 
spilt sump oil on paper; 
found still life in plaster cast
contorted red onion; wearing no knickers
show house trial ordeal; 
Post morteM Queries squirrels 
(part of a 
series they say; poor old dearies 
battle it out hard at war; 
halcyon daze escapes them; 
hangs 'em up high
in the fatuous sun, 
no point quibbling over timespace; 
escape to the as was suntrap shed on 
sleepy rusty wheels; heliotropic heads turn 
waltzers ship alight 
fandango with a gypsy melody; 
lights on no ones in
did you get in the bin and 
prod the lazy daisies; 
neither toil nor sow these days; 
shell shock of the toe I guess; either the way what's new?
uncross your legs when I'm talking to you
your making the place look tidy & that's quite enough
of that they say if you don't use it you lose it
so that doesn't matter if you suss you never had it
in the first place Listen to me I'm talking to you
who shut down the voices they were my only friends
I do not have a mobile phone as I am static
funny five minutes get over it
think about Portsmouth beating a villain

don't cross your legs I said as if you were watching telly
downstairs day in day out self medicated to the spot or doodling 
in your picture books and playing with your paintset
this is an almighty kick up the ass I am you giving while trying not
to cross your legs like I said not to...

I arrive in early January. Frustration has been building up 
in Portsmouth since the brief burst of anticipation 
that followed Myrtle Swinburne's  assumption of the 
presidency in November. 
As the months went on and no obvious changes took place, 
as unemployment failed to fall and the currency swung wildly, 
the urban areas in particular grew increasingly angry. 
My mate Marmite, who works 
for an international organisation in Shiloh, said 
head riots were predicted before the end of the rainy season. 
The rainy season ends in April. The city didn’t even make it close.
Portsmouth was both bully and victim, cruel and pitiable. 
He whipped his horses mercilessly, and sometimes his underlings too. 
He tortured his oxen, knocking them on their heads 
with an axe he had made specially for that purpose, 
and roaring with laughter when they bellowed in agony. 
Sticking frogs with the prong of a fork was another of his pastimes. 
Domestic servants he disliked were held down and forced to drink beer
mixed with jalap and mustard, while others were fed with nothing 
but water-gruel and mustard for a week. 
He threw himself on one of his coachmen 
with such force that he broke the man’s leg. 
If a child who passed him in the street did not raise his hat, 
Portsmouth would order him to be slain.
When the United Irish rebellion of 1798 
raged around his Wexford estates, he wrote to an uncle 
that his tenants had been appropriately slaughtered 
and his estate laid to waste. 
All he seems to have cared about, however, 
was the impact of the loss of rent on his finances, 
which he used as an excuse for not helping his uncle 
out with a gift of money. From an Irish viewpoint, 
the Portsmouths were archetypal absentee landlords, 
a phenomenon that would contribute a century or so later 
to the ousting of that class from its 
dominant position in the country.

Legumes

 

legume

 

 

gift horses spat out shattered teeth

posh pigeons shunned fresh breadcrumbs

fiddlers on the roof  get pissed

Tish! Clean out of Legumes

don’t believe a word of it

just keep on acting dumb

daffodils came out on strike

one for all and all for one

 

Bell, Book & Shambles

1197455_8906894

 

Inkus strummed glum
Untamed cygnet riff
As flying green sword fishes
Play noughts and crosses
on Andover beachfronts
#
The upholsterers sham
Couch casting &
Shadow wrastling
Modus vivendi tan
Like glass bead gamers
refuting b-movie scam

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