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...
Grimbeau
Scroodles
May 27, 2021
May 27, 2021
The Worsewick Paradigm
Posted off that lump of shit up there above the date and time fuck all else to do since the flea circus folded, the barn owl coughed, and we burnt down the lunatic asylum wonderful weather out there, nonetheless no hot water to speak of, you await the seagull interregnum. Where's the presripted drugs? Everything but the Oromorph coming today. scant revenge for the Valladolid lawn atrocity, the blank candour of the rurales, the suffering of Juteland gnomes, the crisp decaying thyme of long, deglected windowsills, the simperings of Little Matty, the drudgery of elevenses, the carnal whelp of bob tailed dactyls the maple leaves of bicameral arcadia...
May 26, 2021
Bounteous Pearl White Clout
Vast reserves of morpheus lean back satiated banked up by king size willows empty phials bob on the Lethe. moonlight rakes the memory like sten guns on the lilac Adriatic this was never a town for joyriders on a spree joined kindle unlimited for kicks, a read on a passing cloud groupthink gets cricks it in the neck have i spent bad money? a little bit of testimony does a body good illuminate thine selfhood
May 25, 2021
bhuasmi
Daft as a thrush in song, peppered by turtle dove shot, endangered specious snipers go to pot seen nobody but your familiars since the shodding excursion. No discourse on the telling bone except to the pharmakon one egg owed to the corner shop. Sir Noot ate all the crusty bread. Mettoys crude long vehicles jacknifing in your head as i breathe i grows rich transporting ancient coins over the funicular isthmus on the tough bodies of the cattle of Bashan
May 21, 2021
A Post Card
Orifamme burst open dawn canopy back of horse chestnut plantation on the cusp of five-thirty. opposite this old place, the beige house was dark red and outside here the border hedge a defiant pea green the like of which you have never seen before. After tablet medication, you mulled over the holy thought and avian tweet of the day before all things bright and beautiful from the guest Rev Livermore's finest work got sullied by the sleazy apocalyptic six o'clock news As you drank up your coffee you took in the morning congress of robin, pigeon , and sparrow on the bread strewn table and it raised a smile. Then it was back to the pneumatic bed for daybreak dreams. You woke to Wimmins Heure; hear small plastic bags are banned and amoral breast implanters from the continent havebeen brought to book and must cough up substantial damages. it amuses you when a tory lady gets berated by fiery emma's cross questions suggest mealy-mouthedness. you are still constipated but well read up on derrida getting busted on his trip to prague in the early seventies (the grounds for his mission to deconstruct the usa?) as ever your words are not flowing freely; has your twitter inactive account been corrupted? I sincerely hope so.
May 21, 2021
Vigil for a Burning Dog
On the ruby doorstep before you stands a parcel for Professor Phipps, It contains a pouch of pulverised sage intended to keep your lonely onion amused over a plague infested Yule.
A thermo-nuclear fog envelops the sleepy town of Trollenberg as erotic zombies fill dishwashers incanting the curses of Mali and smiling on the memory of Nkrumah’s wizard foxtrot.
‘Maradonna’s dead’ They chant.
‘Good, but what of little Diego?’ Prompts the whip cracker.
‘Mudlarking, no doubt. Skipper. Prizing dentures from washed up concubines of the East Indian mob enshrouded in sepia drab.’
A sable crow observes all of this from a tendrilled groyne. The ocan is muted, unspectacular, vivid. Waters lap. A heat pipe chortles in darkest Abrasia.
‘Will he wash?’ Chant the wanton zombies
‘In good time, when the opportunity arises.’
An emphatic whip crackles.
‘The crusty stench is beyond the pale of the daily luminal’
‘Up here on Waum Wen we call it crud’
‘Crud!’
‘Poor wee Diego’
May 20, 2021
Playing Fasti with Lucifer
If your youth spoke words of love, give him this answer right away: ‘There’s too much light here, it’s too shameful In the light: if you’ll lead us to a darker cave, I’ll follow.’ While he goes in front, credulously, and had no sooner reached The bushes you hid: and were nowhere to be found. Janus saw you, and the sight raised his passion. He used soft words to the hard-hearted nymph. She told him to find a more private cave, Followed him closely: then deserted her leader. Foolish child! Janus can see what happens behind him: You gain nothing: he looks back at your hiding place. Nothing gained, as I said, you see! He caught you, hidden Behind a rock, clasped you, worked his will, then said: ‘In return for your union, the hinges belong to you: Have them as recompense for your maidenhead.’ So saying he gave you a thorn (it was incidentally a white-thorn) With which to drive away evil from the threshold. There are some greedy birds, not those that cheated Phineus of his meal, though descended from that race: Their heads are large, their eyes stick out, their beaks dressed as vermin in ermine and prone to crass cupidity
May 20, 2021
The Party for Moderate Progress Without the Bounds of the Law
You who remember Squire Gonks’ Almanac and Charlie’s Aunt beware. Beware of foam stuffed velvet aphids. of gaudy palmable comfort bags, of protei packed cabbage patch dollies, and other suchlike pre Vietnamese potbellied fads. Gaudy were those blobs born fully formed of an optic oil crisis and a major miner’s strike that felled a regime of long standing empire of snot, botched though they were by lumpen candlelight late into the black out night during the three day week, when a ten o clock blindfold was a plaything of the pissed.
If the Gonks could do it then you could do it too. You could have a privileged white space hopper or a bespoke purple chopper and flaunt your carefree brazen streak in broad daylight through scrumptious corporate orchards. Mister Mennish in ambition but not so cuddly as gonks were in a disposable tactile tantrum way; eminently best home-makeable on the laminate dinner table – blunt scissors, clear gummed, sample felts of tasteless hues & farbs – put it together and you surely got your Gonk!
Mine bestie was called Paulus, a mythical gnome in a fabulous lamimate wood, purloined from under a trestle table at a school fete worse than death by gammon tickling. It was Paulus who suffered a fly on the wall documentary crew to film in his ancestral home and share the ups and downs of pastoral life in the knot of a tree with a bunch of fellow arboreal misfits . As I recall there was a big mean black crow called Ted Hughes who harboured deep dark secrets of the occult and allotment plot.
Paulus disintegrated after a vigorous drubbing in a temperamental twin tub. having always had a penchant for self harm then known as accident prone by abusive adults.
Life sure weren’t perfect by no means in the seventies.
May 19, 2021
Lotis
river reeds make a scanty bed
the frantic lust for riches
beyond the wildest dreaming
audacious barefoot beetles
scented lofty ridge ahead
ecstatic gust bewitches
capricious barefoot beetles
indulge the wildest dreaming
wildest barefoot river reeds
indulge audacious beetles
scented scanty bed bewitches
capricious lust for riches
May 18, 2021
Portal
May got seventeen today,
made glorious summer by this sausage pork,
and in its air a’plenty
rain revealed a summer born,
the maid unaware craved its drains to roam,
its culverts to clog―
a strange pain over the tantric temple,
a sudden inability to spit,
a teal sky,
and a giant bird:
omens look pretencious at dusk.
Grimbeau 