the easy way out dogs my every step –
I call it Slobbo.
It is a shadow,
reeks of burgers and pickles,
farts and burps at will,
drinks like a trooper,
smokes like a fish.
it is white at night.
it sings, shouts, and staggers then.
I watch it from my
silken hammock
fuming
Elegiac:
it rolled out one summer’s morning,
thick roll-up in one hand
tar strong coffee in the other,
halted atop the ramp
to take dappled light
took this picture:
green wheelbarrow homes
old yellow milkcrate
left side of
giant cypress treetrunk;
three paving slabs
lean leftside
propping up three
intact mauve
plastic sacks
(compost) .
Generally the earth is parched grey, arid, and ill lit.
This is a gravelly land, conifers did well here till
the buildings cropped up to replace them.
Down the hill is a loamy valley, which floods a lot.
These were the fields where the villagers
who lived up here in the pinewoods worked.
It is called Clayhill
Equine sequins graze
Argideen banks fresh
lush morning meadow.
Vermin in ermine
once plundered this place.
Streamside reveals
Wild green hair
swims strokes stone,
gravel banks bulge,
hopeless infant meanders
know their destiny:
Aggregate.
Poor Quemada
Burning down
Torch Armada
Came to town
Scorch Dearth
After birth
Of a Nation?
Consequential
Conflagration
Up it is:
dithered, dawdled, dallied.
Barnes out: Barnes in.
Door shut and locked.
Took pills,
tectonic shift,
Subterranean Bogseat Blues.
Poohs.
Ah-aarghs.
It’s Alive!
groaning, churning, burning.
Awakenings: pondlife.
Crawling vision.
POV:
Thing gropes
Pathless:
mud, reed, slime, sludge
for warm, dry land.
Slow as a Boa.
Protozoa.
No more routinely ruptured mornings –
Quite a happy prospect!
‘…Nora seemed dead on leaving.’
Meaning Wot?
Everyone is blessed: half-dressed.
Trussed and preyed on that one for another day.
Tricateurs with Secateurs;
Kiss my anus, Janus;
Facebook guttersnipes,
fishwives swimming in shirk infested waters.
We do not do blood.
Dog day lies
undisturbed
by passers-by,
thick fur treacle
sweat insists upon
cold cider –
The menthol cheroot cure
Succours
Absolution
Rain, sultry rain.
Opaque grapes,
leaden sky fruit,
burst on copious,
oil dark
plush olive,
swooning,
spaded,
luscious leaves.
Three chirrup
kaleidoscope toucans
tenderly engage
a dopey puffin then
hunker down within
the livid dense canopy
to share a light
repast of slender wafers
over a convivial round
of knock out whist.
Tuesdays,
no matter the weather,
is Housey-Housey,
a rainforest favourite
throughout the ages.
Beastlings from yards
Around always
Attend
I
am
Blessed of
A
Multi-
Personality
Disgorger:
What about you?
The caliph & the caliphate
Arranged a secret dinner date
Near Toulon, in the south of France
Called ‘Honi soi qui mal y pense.’
Grimbeau 