Nowt kicked off (or so I’m told)
The sad old Sun still tries
to muscle in
break out, break in…
and have you heard?
The latest scandal,
the last straw:
No buses to Mortgagetown on Sundays
(and Bank Holidays)…
And there’s more…
No peas for the wicked,
It is rumoured
the pigs had them with the lobster.
No respect, these types.
Dyslexics with a read only memory,
they say,
lack self-knowledge.
Read and
right and wrong.
He’s up, he’s up…
he’s down again
Like a yoyo,
a rat up a pump
Or a fiddler’s elbow
Not coming
Nor going
Just up to…
What?
Cheroot smoke
plumes and wisps
Effigy, Eulogy, Ecstasy…
Bingo!
In Thames Ditton
A drowned kitten
In your own backyard.
Smartphone spews
Headjuice on Muesli.
The day after the day after wholesale slaughter flyblown autumn gossamer persists stubborn as winter rowan becomes tonight more trash to incinerate sweet horse chestnut We endure stale lavender All the greens become obscene rude yellows stark enchanted azure No chance of heaven at eleven. As in the black night a certificated medic calls to say: Life goes on without us then just like glimpses promptly disappears
Just earlier,
Tomorrow
Bavid Dutine,
Decal smoother,
Said this to
unto me…
You are nearly a mural
Outrage!
Methunk
Of course,
I hit him with a passing Zucchini
& asked him:
Is this really any way to buy
Gas?
Lunch upon
time used
every second
fecund
Sporting matching
bonnet and black, baggy
jumper.
Sweaty, seedy boxers,
and fresh Homer slippers.
Ready for inaction.
Frost
promised,
don elastic
cotton vambrace,
the day begins.
Child ran out
excited with lolly, hit by car,
did not see, did not look,
hit and run,
ambulance,
call the cops…
…blood on road, rage and blame,
no punters,
don’t push it,
show respect,
after all,
under the circumstances,
no you don’t!
Just keep stumm,
play doggo, wait for cops,
not my day, never is,
seventeen nineties, fourteen nines…
Grimbeau 