writing | Grimbeau

December 10, 2014

Sleep Daphnia

Are you in a gourd place, a worth thee situation?

Culmination: Dulcimer Concerto with Verbs

If not, how not? Where are you? How are you? What is to be done?

Let me be & let me live!

In bed, in pain, in doubt, idling,

worrying, resisting, defying, ignoring,

avoiding, suffering, tormenting, confusing…

Sofa so good. Comfy sofa. Groovy duvet.

Womb somewhere. Luvverly.

Somewhere baby.

Rainbow.

Love glow: glove snow

Melt and moult.

Go Hen woman.

Cool and crispen oven…

Go, go, go-go

Pen woman…

Return to Zenda

1 Comment

December 8, 2014

Did Fiona Fail?

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Quidnuncs flaidh cheoil:

how’s your ole terror feyther?

Still on the run in Spain?

And your mother, don’t you love her,

the twisted sister of Cain.

And you, you monster,

a towering babble of lardo

thinking we’re lesser devos,

are you well in this world,

did you churl of curling

or gainsay Brian Boru?

1 Comment

December 8, 2014

Artillery

til

four…

Phone

Answer

Chatter

Au revoire.

The day begins with a list, a money saving list, a cautionary list, a list of foreseeable need, a list of great existential consequence.

Oh, hello

Europe

This early

Eye woe cup

Rite

December 2, 2014

The Pitfalls of Autonomy

Tuned in, turned off, turned on, turned up, turned puce…

Mother Goose, Aladdin, and Buttons

glaring at me like thunder.

`Prey, what ails thou Panto-types?` I seasonalled.

`A flagrant breach of protocol, that’s what!’ said Goose, irate, pacing.

`Cinders is a tard! Whittington’s a dachshund! The ugly sisters are ants! Need I continue?` Buttons stormed with absurd pomp.

‘My lamp is empty.` Aladdin wailed.

`I do not see what it has to do with me.` I said with modesty and aplomb.

`Just typical,’ Goose tutted, `will no one take responsibility ?`

…

Luck to get out of their alive,

I tell you, slipped out

when the Bovril lady came,

via the sink, town drain,

and Alaskan tundra to here.

Thumbnail One:

`The Twiglet and Cheeseball.`

1 Comment

November 28, 2014

Syntax

Light, rare light

Occurs

Blurs

Dreyfuss

November 28, 2014

Snitch

Up at the crack of doom and so it pours,

acrid quicklime, gregarious sash window,

drone buzz, sable confetti, nasal toot,

sootfall, gasp, volume, mass. What folly, what

pulchritude, what bafflement. Life was a

giant veiny nose, a red herring, a

wanton flop. So be it. Que Sera, Sera.

Horace Day, Matt Busby, James `The Fact` Durante…

pock dugout, dabbed down and dusted copious

cloud of potassium permanganate,

spotlighted by Lazarus, light reveals

white head and lost tribe of Erin: Quilty’s Pals.

1 Comment

November 26, 2014

Celeste regressed…

Stop making scents,

tincture your sphincter with

perfidious salve,

snort pulverised juniper,

sweat quinine ampules…

another one soon

stifled in shallow,

lifeless cant.

Too late for love,

like the vestibule

catastrophe nook.

A broken swan

negotiating

burning boats,

safe in a synthesized,

furless chrysalis.

November 25, 2014

jute fruit (polka)

To dotage an

antidote:

threat & hope

weave and knit

a knot

night of dark

sun

measly done

think if you

fit in to fit

pre-shrunk

siege modality,

a beige mentality

the new banality –

Temporality

1 Comment

November 24, 2014

Nip

chill,

wet first frost

rest thin little

finger on a pin,

four wet angels

shimmer

salt

spill

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November 21, 2014

Seeing Things

kept from the saddle by sleep and cider,

nestled in this cluttered room, this dimlit

hibernation station, wallow fallow in

the gathered gloom, the afternoon moon

this is the time for those who dream in daytime,

those who gather and hunt, those who like me

watch from windows, making shade from shadow,

form from substance, the things that dreams are made on.

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Category: writing