Elfden
Chumpden
Chookslayer
writhes about
In fresh turdies,
guffawing tiglets,
splurging glurb,
drooging knucklers,
whenxe
a seizure to indulgest
a zit of DIY Greco-Roman
unter den perchway
to sepulchritude.
‘Is this the way
to get a mush kiss,
standing here still
pulling my penis?’ He snoods
toothe fladgey gorlslush
whooob gawbs a goober, hollowring:
‘Ingorge anti-intoxicants for it
forthwith & pulverise the amoeba-3
out of the armadillo, Pillow!’
Traffic trumps ethics clucks…reads titbits, attending to gnomes & druids
Swaggering ivory clouds puff hard on dragon’s toothy briary pipes…
Milton sweats in fetters, Blake O’Blumenthal grasps a nettle.
Blake’n’Pinball—Marriage of Heaven and Hell
All time top score!
~
Mummblings inner cavernous sports hall near Hemel Hempstead
Mystical masterpieces melt…and why knitty-knot?
Kind hearted adulterous rage
burning Incandescently
Go follow your bliss—mental composer!
~
Clay, Ameline…who are you kidding, Bud?
Lazy putz, busking it, busking it sloppily
It is not writing, is it? It is, it is
Just not as we know it, Radar
Smoked salmon oily rags, avocado fingers
house radish sauce & instant
flash green brain salad sandwich
scourge my philistine god
Afternoon preoccupied
Chewing on it
Repenting at leisure—
In the belly of the fishmonger
Monsters! All shapes & sizes
Variety of small grain boxes
‘what d’you want today?’
The invisible sixth one
Traffic trumps ethics clucks…read a bit, listening to gnomes & druids
Swaggering clouds puff dragon’s teethy briar pipes…
Milton in fetters, Blake O’Blumenthal.
Blake’n’Pinball—Marriage of Heaven and Hell
All time top score!
Mummblings inner cavernous sports hall near Hemel Hempstead
Mystical masterpieces…and why knitty-knot?
Kind hearted adult rage
Incandescently
Go follow your bliss—mental composer!
Clay, Eveline…who are you kidding, Bud?
Lazy putz, busking it, busking it sloppily
It is not writing, is it?
Just not as we know it, Radar
Smoked salmon rags,
house radish sauce &
flash green brain salad sandwich
scourge my philistine god
Afternoon preoccupied
Chewing on it
Repenting at leisure—
In the belly of the fish
Monsters! All shapes & sizes
Variety of small grain boxes
‘what d’you want today?’
The invisible sixth one
Windblown half-moon running
chickens chased by scattered twigs,
flyblown choc bar wrappers dervish,
two taciturn Masai, a large yellow balloon,
Bladerunner and a pride of moles: rural quiet is resumed.
That sweet Blossom, Tearsday,
loved all things
Petunia,
Luxuriating
there whenever Chance permitted.
Chance was a creature of habit,
smiled on Tearsday three times
on Thursday mornings
between Shipping Forecasts.
Gerald the Burn-Out
dwelt in anti-cyclones,
and traipsed in murk and squall.
A most unlikely couple: Which they weren’t.
1
Sun inside, sun outside, hens free.
It’s quarter to three: to my right is a hyacinth blue hyacinth,
elsewhere a dove coos.
Why no workies?
Smirkies, shirkies, quirkies…
Focal plane down the drain.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
2
Woke on the water, choir in the sky.
Lost habit, out of the swing.
Naked apeshit visit.
Longers.
Two two two will not do: simply nots.
Time not spent at it.
…
Pomes and yarns roam and darn days, nights, hours and showers: eats, drinks, & sleeps. That’s the trick, Mick.
Here’s a right one.
Duck!
Crystal was shattered. Ratty Vanfrau was at the ablates again. Queer going altogether. Formegandros was a right old wrench to leave. Never spurn a taverna. Still tempers fugit…
`His head’s gone.` observed the rookie.
‘Tis the time of year for it.’ said the chainsaw massacre cast.
‘Not that bloody rubbish again.’ Cried the…
View original post 53 more words
So right on
Bump and grind.
Sweat & simper.
Pass the crimper,
Adrienne, got a right one ear.
Scissor schwesters steeling snippers.
Castration: a Tomean’s rite to shoes.
Sweetbreads and old heads tail the culprit,
The lactiferous Mrs Vase. Yes, shedunnit.
With the wimple in the temple,
aided and abetted by Drudge, the Sphincter.
A distincter demon was there not.
This side of Hieronymus Dosh
Tuned in, turned off, turned on, turned up, turned puce…
Mother Goose, Aladdin, and Buttons
glaring at me like thunder.
`Prey, what ails thou Panto-types?` I seasonalled.
`A flagrant breach of protocol, that’s what!’ said Goose, irate, pacing.
`Cinders is a tard! Whittington’s a dachshund! The ugly sisters are ants! Need I continue?` Buttons stormed with absurd pomp.
‘My lamp is empty.` Aladdin wailed.
`I do not see what it has to do with me.` I said with modesty and aplomb.
`Just typical,’ Goose tutted, `will no one take responsibility ?`
…
Luck to get out of their alive,
I tell you, slipped out
when the Bovril lady came,
via the sink, town drain,
and Alaskan tundra to here.
Thumbnail One:
`The Twiglet and Cheeseball.`
…aside from scrub
scatted Street Legal,
flew solo around
the warm grey upstairs
spreading love
and affection with
my every breath.
I had a pony:
its name was Lucifer…
What a slothful Tom!
Skinless dirigible on asphalt deck.
Clavicle take off and soft landing.
Clankety-clunk,
Junk or dhobi?
Heinz number nine,
Rubi one Kenobi; ibis eons, zweye,
in the house: dry. Sontag afternun.
sister lulu, father zulu…
A marriage made in heaven. Bless’em.
Grimbeau 