Grimbeau

Scroodles

The Forty percent Solution

Evidently prunes and bananas seldom
budge stubborn nations,
an annular eclipse
(a total package with a forty per cent discount
and a ring of fire thrown in for good measure)
obscured by rain clouds. nonetheless
Biden about to get up
to some pure act of good
(don’t mention the blasted sausages):
avoidance of error removes the need for correction.
There was blood curdled
on the sheet and blood clotted on the chair.
we carried on as if nothing were there.
nonchalantly, one might caution

The Orthotics of Banality

morning sun intense on garden window gets you up sleep blind to stand on one leg, take 
your pills, overdose on vitamin d and reward
yourself with two spoonfuls of laudanum; waiting for Andy and Pritti to mate and watch your toes turn blue. 
Assume the horizontal and the pueumatic
hammering begins, the power tools of sunday morning, the razing of humdrum lawns. 
You fall back asleep clutching your talismanic vape and find yourself in a one horse town 
atop a chiselled desert path, lights shine from the buildings
it is snowing, out to sea moonlight defines the cliffedge in brilliant blues and yellows, a 
concave tube connects the sky and earth. Waiting in the lobby a
voloptuous dark haired woman appears and asks you in. The reflection shows 
dark rings beneath your eyes. There is a room inside being prepped for
a procedure. a large white haired matron approaches you with notes. 
she does not know about the extraordinary pills you take.
 A little fat man barges in imposing his importance
you say he is interrupting, he ignores you, he thrusts his hairy arse is in your face, 
you shout fuck off and wake up. the dog is barking. Did he hear you sceaming?

those lights on the cliff were sublime, the rock pools vibrant, the water spout majestic, 
agony offset in a desert blizzard mild and still, you were not alone, there was a familair silhouette, 
you leapt to the obvious assumptions and were proved right
right about the jab appointment. It is today. She is due at on the dot of five-thirty. 
No chicken dinner. No clean floor. No fresh bed. 
People never show on rainy days. On this globe every day it rains. 
Who was that on the phone? Gives it sound cause for some concern?
Approaching storm clouds dim the light, you turn up the heat before  the great incoming sloosh
'Great Suicide Weather,' said the old man staring into crowded space. May proves itself a foaming seething zone.

The Third Man Cometh

Over a hour since 
you hit on Notes from the Underground 
by old laughing boy 
Dostoyevsky 
(how you loved misspelling his name!)
on audiobook. 
He insists on pure enjoyment! 
An enjoyment of depradation. 
Because of the inertia 
that follows on  from an over-acute conscience
spilt a thin nick to long on--
thus there is no escape 
from being a long grass bum. 
There is nothing else to be. 
So enjoy the despair. 
Fancy a coffee? I bet you do.
Sure you won't drop that?

Strange Brew (King Kong Garden)

A tea of 
foliage churns our garden round,
        But not a 
tea of 
dull unvariegated green,
        Sharp contrasts 
of all colours here are to be seen;
The light-green 
graceful tamarinds abound
Amid the 
mango clumps of green surround,
        And palms arise, 
gorillas pray, between;
        And over there 
shooting pool the villains lean,
Red,—red, and 
startling like a trumpet’s sound.
But nothing 
can be lovelier than the strangeness
        Of bamboos 
to the eastward, when the moon
Keeks through their 
raps, and the white lotus changes
        Into a 
cup of silver. One might swoon
               Drunken with 
beauty then, or graze and gaze
               On a primeval Eden  persiflage.

A Solitary Mistah

A dead unrequited tree has fallen bridelike on the sunrise.
in all likelihood the crazy sparrows will befriend it
bring it grubs and larvae to create utopia from its folds
since castration the buffalo spaniel gives a wide berth
to prone toxic temptations sullying his vista: language,
he inferred later, leaves no trustworthy fossils

The Woman in Red

Obscenities are music to dandelions
your foul mouthed garden 
is full to bursting
Unlike bores to endure at wakes
the first to arrive the last to leave
do you recall we were happy
unwhaling a mushroom quiche 
on a willow pattern platter and garnishing it
with corrugated parsley?
By this time it was whatever it is
nobody slept well and we woke refreshed
safe in the knowledge the weeds were cursed
some days now you just serenade the brambles
when the power tools have gone shopping
when the weather is bad you write sestinas 
psychokinensis is a dandy word

 

Merriweather & Manson Make Out

Dylan movie ambles down 
below jampacked with namedrops 
cameos and zen flavour wisecracks: 
up here in the crows nest 
full of psychic anthrax
and chintzy liquorice 
the ice floes pause for thought. 
Opening the landing window & 
admitting the savage boreus-- 
What the fuck were you playing at? 
You knew about the kerosene

Swimming to Abrasia

Sleepless till gone dawn, 
took pills at five, got a few hours, 
listened hard to Alexei, Mary, 
and the bird tapping on the landing window
then let out the dog and did tai chi with a vape
before the postman had good reason to walk past. 
Thought long and hard about water 
spilling over the bridge of sighs, 
and then thought of you saying 
'Fuck me a flying gondola, upside down inside handcuffs.' 
If things keep going this well
you might end up getting  discovered. 
Then what? Splash...

Poor Sweet Little Matty

repairing telephone booths is a thankless business these days
people walk past laughing pointing dark squares
just yesterday a trout exploded in front of the shop
wish i had caught that for posterity
one day i am going west
for rest and recuperation
a place without wires
a place with no connections to repair
the swim of hunchback trout

Frank Nuns

One stupid broad don't make a summer
to accomplish this onerous 
task you require:
a pride
a gaggle, 
a posse, 
a murmuration, 
a flock, 
a swarm,
a riot, 
a host, 
a crowd, 
a plague,
a herd, a school, a shoal
a parliament, a phallus...