Grimbeau

Scroodles

A Very Strange Spanish

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Charles Tomlinson turns sights into words
Stoke of old was long and narrow
where learning to fish
teaches you to cast no shadow on the water
or the fish will flee
Poverty stricken seamstresses
shed gemstones in the dust
Well before he got to Cambridge
he knew his Baudelaire well

I must return to Ruskin and keep a journal
as i walk through a limestone landscape
like an empty vessel; quick
when the light is so much better
refracted by the driven snow
of Arizona’s Desert
not nobody elses

For change is brought by light
and not other people
casting the shadow of a doubt
where the sun dont shine

Horse Soup & Duck Feathers

A view of the intersection at 5th Avenue and 42nd Street

 

Time spent in smoke
ends in smoke
All go out in flames
or down divinely
dedicated to the marvellous nice
Everybody’s smoking
so no one’s getting high
Time up in smoke
rope a dopem, amtelope

down death row cinemas
grow edelweiss and the blue is plain azure
Palladian pillars and Mick the Miller
get lowered down in town
freedonia is just a broadway show
where everyone eats cornbread

Back home in the dull familiar
struggling like der fuhrer
with the castle gate
think I’ll go all vegan on them
to show how serious I have hope

Senseless in Gaga

2407

 

Strung out on quasars
everyone got lice
poor ickle seedy
third monsoon season
taramasalata
remnants on a crust
stealth bombers nest in
the stangest places
captain paranoia
calls the shots in Cisco

Florence of Arabia

garros

 

Ten days from Persepolis I find is quite enough
devious hand signals indicate the time to go is now
All Stan and Ollie clumsiness must be timed to sheer perfection
A well oiled ex machina riding for a maul
weaved from exotic jade bracken speeds through curve ball air:
Beaches and obelisks obsess my waking thoughts of late
like prime numbers leaning on a wall
denigrating muesli as opium for the masses
A healthy balance diet always has its knockers
Victor Frankenstein had a tale or two to tell I bet
The smell of chicken rises as Igor ends up in a birdbath

Whalespotting

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Eager to Hail Caesar before late closing rout
A frantic wait ensued prolonged by reasonable doubt.
A restless mob swelled to thirteen hapless souls
The troll who called Charles Dickens ‘Cuntface’ slunk off
in search of shadows. The Seaby was at anchor. It was tuna season
and times were so-so at the Crooked Bullet
Triremes graced the inlet coves
pastel blues and pinks turn mango
the fishers were abed
today they fell the oak tree
I claim I once planted as a child

Quick to praise King Rollo so not to miss the tide
Shipping News confounds the crew
Three kraken roost on Mizen Head
The lighthouse blinks stray tendrils
illuminating blistered asphalt
and peeling gaud on out of season caravans
A squall raddled precarious quay
A perch for intrepid wayfarers
in a cumbrous daimler truck
converted for the alpine experience
a veteran of Moroccan scree
Drifts remotely out to sea

Madagaskar

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Paused to watch in awe
as porksausage is slowly herded into
a red hot oven.
Ponderous rise to thirteen hundred handclaps;
read back through unfinished work–capable, superficial, slapdash
mild mannered…
up yours to writing courses.
Sausage time after chess defeat debacle.
Still life goes on in a glass bunion reading mad sestinas
loose limbed shambling to a close

Mist not clearing, rigid grey stays
As weary corseteers drink creamy
Chicken cuppa soups
& tongue inscrutable croutons

Corrugated tin roof soundbite din

Wet cats weeping sombre buckets
Waiting for morsels
Or dead fledglings
Lost drowned commencing maiden flight.

A quick gasper, juicy  goss and prattle
then back to graffiti whalebones
Curse those deft big hollow needles
The sky went orange: locusts

Jetflop & Samson

Amyl

 

Sunday morning scrub
Wind blows like a stammer,
winkles drapes,
dissipates
replaced by pastel
blue and pink graffiti
over thinned out chestnut woods

Fertile Ground

2688 (1)
Nine days into the new year spring struck the dozy Cut at ten fifty nine on the strawberry nosegay, essential oil spillage romping in abject hayloft recalled Petula and dripping rain down on this jawful of toxic fodder, still beggars can’t be choosers, so they say, but more of that anon
O! mute contorted spring  that of witch from yuledream breaks still antiseptic and vindictive in its luscous bite and repressive in its grandiose vision, all this seen in contrasted tarns of Aryan types of northern european extraction, one applies such strictures others sadder succour, and petit moi in sweet rancid pod spouting freedom crap to passers out. No this one wants it over and done with so much that she can get some quality sleep and spend precious time with her pissed neglected family and maybe by a stroke of luck meet some friends or just play walk the fucking dog as it seems these days everywhere you go there is some needy bitch on heat driving hound dogs mad, bad, and tedious to know
Now there was a blast from the decent past as if i remembered a rhythm of how to spout without stopping and looking up to see the product of my disinterred fingers weep; o for the generous rear of the cheesecake and smell of the loud rampaging nobheads stomping thunderously over the resonant needled flaw of presence and then sudden like almost stopping to consider too stark vivid options, the wild orchids and leafmould hoof persist only now as mummery, got a new one as there’s no two ways about it, what’s more besides bet it snows before next week is through, but fuck it let’s go then you and I and get those beers in Grimbeau mentioned ages back
Do I chance dare in this repair to risk the stair in darkness, or even in the flickering light in this state of twilight, distress and thirst? Onwards and downwards a wag suggests! What are you. a tomfool or an eejit tripper? Of course one will find at the heel of the hunt we all piss blood on a Friday night round here…

Wanted Man

1781

 

Toe wrapped up anew
boney walkman ascending
stares up to see
a pelican swallowing
suburbia in one gulp
curlew chicks slide down
ballooning gizzards
of sodden gazebos
~

Killed off a lot of half hours
waiting for answers
to pressing questions
moved off
eventually
eschewing time zones
transported by taunts
loose canons and silly wizards

Oliphants & Berserkers

O'Morse where art thou

 

 

ain’t got no time for messing; original thought sought; panic brought forth nowt; busy morning to chew over;
a bitter campaign; internecine warfare in the shires; who drew that line in the land?

the wind gets up apace whipping up a storm a white island volcano coughs its disapproval causing five
to perish on a far off event horizon

black holes are practicising cannibals that will eat eachother in the end engendering a pompous rumpus in
the parly houses that remain

it was then it dawned on me it was midwinter and i ought to make sacrifice to fuck all and ensure the bucklers
are fit for purpose

it was noted as odd when the supply train arrived before the vanguard and the smell of sizzling bacon
entranced our half starved elephants and berserkers

Flavella found paltry the consolation of knowing that persistence was its own reward as she gathered lilacs
in the spring scattered on the ringpull strand

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