Good, that stopped the table wobbling!
Went out for a quiet garden moment,
just as I was warming in the soft sun
of early autumn, the army commenced
lawnmower war next door. Disappointed my
plans were scuppered, but undeterred to gain
nothing from my venture, I fetched the washing
from the line and back indoors, though failing
to spur the idle into action, I
consoled myself with the thought of green socks.
…educated right hand
toyed with me but briefly
before easily putting me down
with a dismissive squib
and a scintillating boat
hook that landed me sparko
on the seat of my scruples
— did not see what that was
coming for the life of me…
anyways flattened him good
in the third with a lusty
left upper ignoramus
wiped the smarm off
his valentine in a jiff it did…
finally at last one has tospring one's magnum opes meian freunds i'll syat cler a case of pissed up Richard Burton#i've troubles each an av'ry prat & I did it sideways regrrets? i've had fetoo wotsit but more mushmoredan dis i id tit my way
A walk through
MacArthur Park
Turned out
quite contrary to
all popular opinion
which I assiduously
some have said ‘blindly’
follow like a shop
or sometimes a sheep
in a stripy pair of panties
Picnic? In your dream scenes
(caution:flies & spillages);
raging thirst (wonder why not)
Glot to get out of this plaice
(socks, shoes, & some means of transport?)
Forthcoming events – domestic drudgery,
tease skunk in garden, stir molten corned beef porridge…
Acolytes Contemplate cod
and all its meagre trimmings
swim in myrtle oceans deep
Dunnock patrol sweeps
up the lawn prior to snotty
entrance of the Queen of Sheba
Gormless positivity crowds some punters out
Embed Jasper stone in troubled forehead
Brecciated third eye squints
Mineral deficiency remedy
Fizzes in blue silica
Uncle of the bride makes wind
A virtuous thermal is born
Magic lurks in fits and starts
Fragile as dovecote earrings
Pageboys scatter ricicles on tympani
Jerry built for doom and duplicity
loathsome mother superior stalks our every move
Dove henpecks petrified garden gnome
but then it is Wednesday
after all is said: undone
Tuesday tunic: middle August, middle Earth…
Golden dawn, drowsy ursine shadows play it doggo
Down In Drongo-Drongoland
Graeco-Roman holds Cricklewood gripped by the wee small ones
History by the shed load made down the bomb farm
Skin needs tender loving care provider
Ratty old ladies don’t pay lip service
Down In Drongo-Drongoland
Acacia tabernacle robbed by yobs to tooth fairy
Radical solitaire Basho getting underway
old leaves turning brown as phenomenal berries
bunch to bear bitter winter fruit
lose the race as eight bells ring
seven got knocked out
Down In Drongo-Drongoland
angel got in today
sleeping one off again
it’s sometimes difficult to watch
stuff allover like that
going on under your nose
perhaps a modest
adjustment of the necklace
something might occur
Through windows open
Watch Rio Garden City site
Cut a dashing figure—
actual bodily harm
innocent bystander
Sabre toothed tyger startled
By low flying drone
Preserve endangered species
At her majesty’s pleasure
Incarcerated down
The Museum of the Future
Just for posterity you understand
Slurs well with prosperity
Favella lingua franca
Amonynously
Treely & rurally
Also sprach Nuncle Stanley
After a crate of Brown Ale
Art house debacle closes overnight
Director of deaths & entrances arrives late to the party
Black as samurai over garments rustle like tin foil
Hair tied up in funny chive like bunches fasten with ligature
Very red lip gloss looking like a proper tart I suppose
Otherwise a sleep of reason during cool radio silence
Blue cloudless sky, wall to wall sunshine, could be a nice one out.
Milkman been and gone—cryptic hint found on doorstep.
Cars away to work possibly containing earwigs,
kettle recently boiled, supreme court ruling at leisure
open the window & let in the sun for a bite to eat
Opened a new consignment of ecstasy: filter got a goodish three scoops
Heading for the Prose Coast by the look of the lie of the concertina
loosen up a little timber by the shed on the approach
.
That bloody editor looking over my shoulder is giving me the pip.
Very wet grass from overeager sprinkling oeuvre.
Where do you think we are—Palm Springs?
Guzzling gas and water like it’s going out of fashion.
During the golden years of American capitalism,
late nineteen fifties and early sixties,
before the rot set in, that was what you did you schmuck.
Pleasant Valley Sunday out here in status symbol land
(Jerry Goffin & Carole King or was it already too late?)
Maybe an old one gathering dust
Grimbeau 