The Tamarind dropped anchor and despatched a
purple emissary
who announced the fate of the sweet, eyed,
lovely Maiden
from the coast of Malibar
to the swelling throng on the quay.
It appeared that, for once, the trades had been kind:
the Pirates of Somali
were living it up in Bali
Chewy lamb of god & son ltd
First compact runners
Old new potatoes reheated
Fresh mint sauce of summers
Then and now under lilac cloud
Eyeshadow, outlined by cable mascara
And toothpick telegraph poles that scud
Willy-nilly, abandoned to the coal nirvana
Trees call another dusk
Gotterdammerung’s off!
End of the world as they knew it.
All afternoon unquenchable thirst
accompanied by a mind made of puppy fat.
There is energy, it is all over the place;
thin and clumped, dry and soggy, like an ill
-kempt meadow or face.
For, making meadows is
no laughing matter: neither is the end
of the world, no matter when.
I said to Betty:
‘Drop everythingi. Tonight we eat
with Ferlinghetti. I will you uppy-pick
in my Maserati at seven thirty sharpish’.
‘What will we have, Jimi?
Probably spaghetti, or, maybe linguini.’
‘Yummi!’
Elevenish
Big rains water the pampas
washing away dust and clues.
The flora sleeps soaked
and wakes to day kisses
of sun and breeze.
Mind out of time out of mind.
July swings all the way to Westward Ho! and Hell.
The buttercups are salted by soft tears
smoothed away by aphids.
Henry had mixed feelings about his invisibility. On the one hand was the sheer novelty, and, at the same time was his basic need for recognition, by act or not in deed
‘Indiana Jones and the Temple of Goobers.’ He burst forth.
‘Doom.’ Replied Flo, feeling left out of his thoughts and feelings.
Far but near away Maud returns to summer storm and the hell-thought that maters will remain unresolved forever.
Headcase tried to really get his head around the law of twelves.
Edward G busied himself with the balloon collection and the gooseberry tart and reflected that this would be a hard nut to crack.
Cruel and vicious age as ever was
longsuffering lifesufferer.
Do not bullshit one about the deprivations of the posh or chide me
I am unspeakable toothless with bite snap vengeful hard work
my reward three times twenty three this year shite up the snout
maculate deceivers line your nests and fill your boobies with
silica and choux pastry resentful me you betcha runs in the
breed like the wooden leg hip hop clip clop Iggy copped it
again last night a long drawn out affair mizzled puzzled dazzled
daddy sulks longest sulk in history of history and night
disturbing bassoon oboe stormtrooping quadruped
foodless as a mulligatawny owl a moustachioed pistachio
beckoned forward by a blindfold bogyman for mud is thicker
than water go the whole hog and take the plunge…
Fresh, clear, sunny, Blueskies pastel, white fluffs
hazy haze…bunged up tubes:
Liquids –
please apply within.
Outside now for a smoke and a quibble.
Is there chicken still for tea?
New potatoes, new peas, new beans, new lamb…
new dawn
Siegfried came and went:
Sixty-Niner
Move faster,
Desiderata:
‘Go Bentley
without Plates…’
Wise fool,
state clown,
so no impact,
mock the weak,
so to speak,
ridicule the powerful,
doss down
in the vestibule,
drool,
cool…
Nose to grindstone.
Hard slog.
Trudge.
Yomp.
This is peace!
More mud than sludge.
What we put inside eachother…
do not nose. So, what’s to do today?
Sun, food, cider, shower…
Parsifal’s gone fishing should anyone ask.
Grimbeau 