Pests
In a hurricane lagoon
festooned by small flying things
concerned onlookers
fluster on the windswept beach
call emergency services
in case it’s a grand mal fit.
Grimbeau
Scroodles
December 18, 2015
From Rags to Riches
Dragged up on the mean
streets of Much Wenloch, Salop:
orphaned at an early age
& entombed on death row by four
after eating his grandma!
Yes, indeed, Neil Armstrong was
an unlikely candidate
to become the first man
on the moon.
a modest man with a lot to be modest about,
petty criminal with cannibalistic tendencies.
Till fortune propelled him
into a life of
galactic celebrity,
when,
holed up in a shotgun shack after
an abortive raid
on Dade County Police Dept
to release Jim Morrison,
he was abducted by NASA
& sent,
kicking and screaming,
into outer space.
His last words ‘Goldfish Mandelbrot’ are typical of the man:
succinct yet charming,
dark yet illuminating.
We shall never see his like again.
December 18, 2015
Petrichor
Nose down.
The Saint woke
nose down in a wood:
in a
a vast, dank wood.
Beeches & brambles.
He got up,
raised a knowing eyebrow,
and licked mulch from his
granite chiselled chin.
Petrichor,
he concluded wryly
December 18, 2015
Barley Wine & Camembert
After the angel dust
shaving the tiger proved easier
than Murdoch had thought.
And, as it turned out,
what Chadwick had posited
was later proven true,
it was the skin and not just
the fur that was patterned.
they were all the same
just get over it
Next week a Zebra,
she decided.
‘ The giraffe might prove to be a tall order,’
said the Indian rubber man,
deftly reading her train of thought.
How they chortled
that evening over their
Barley wine and Camembert
December 18, 2015
This is not Here
Slow slows slowly halts
sighs resumes forgets restarts
half-heartedly gazes
into empty toxic spaces
once full of hearts and flowers
twilight fading hour
just before three-thirty
worry not your knotty head
the lice who’ve just gone off to bed
won’t surface till eight-thirty
December 18, 2015
Midnight Lamp
you can’t turn it on
and off like a water tap
or light switch can you
December 17, 2015
Clemency
Bleak midwinter light
Flowers bloom trees without leaves
Labile distortions
December 15, 2015
WB Yeats (1323-1657)
The Plough &
The Stars in black &
white relief
triumph emphatically
allover my will
sporting slate black uniforms
parading John Ford
paddywhackery.
Some toothless Barry
Fitzgerald
lopsidedlymoustachioed
does unbalanced
convincingly
in tatty old hats
& assists a terrible beauty
down paradise road.
Tim Peake Gagarin
becomes more human traffic.
Good riddance to guinea pigs.
Smiley’s pupils shrank
on witnessing Stanley
Holloway in drag
(Some re-entry queries remain)
December 15, 2015
Tim Peake Blasts Off
A three red night sucks
its denouement this morning.
All lights on and doors left causal open.
Perfect funeral weather.
Took the cure but it ain’t got through.
Think I’ll pester F-Bomb in a mo.
Naught doing on
the scribble western front.
Guts gargle in red
wine and ready salted crisps.
Permanent wet dusk.
December 13, 2015
Mythology
As constellated
Jason and the Argonauts
pay their usual
Ritual
Xmas visit.
The dog will not drop the stick.
Perhaps upstairs
is the best
Place for me just now.
Either that or a
cross country run in slippers
Grimbeau 