Half-Eight wait
Coffee pot sunk,
Clunk, glug drunk,
Sunblaze
amber green
blue morning,
slosh galoshed
plum blinkered,
spooning gate
…
wretched short
phase too
brief fleet
on two
hour glass.
Tangerine days,
tamarind leaves,
verdigris craze,
sunflower lumber
…
Sing off tune songs,
whistle dry
Humdrum:
Sunflower
Oils marzipan,
line Rumour
Road milk
road with
cornflakes.
There once was a Dylan called Vicar
In want of some dollar and liquor
So he flew off one day
Got carried away
And promptly got sicker & sicker
An old Jew’s harp prism, makes corona
schism, sees the heaven’s children glisten,
heeds bystanders syllogism, shut up
if you care to listen! Says let sly ones be
bygones, give away the ghosts, or a new world
disappears, defy at your peril swell your
placid eyes with tears. Comet’s trails point away
from the sun, seek out a place in deeper space.
For, if this love does not illuminate,
it won’t be for a want of hate for hatred,
dressed up to thrill the fat potentate
his opinion of himself inflated
soon to implode, unconditionally sated.
Below decks I ate wild mushrooms in scrambled eggs,
warm Parma ham,and a choice, prime cut, brown bap,
Oodled in buttery herbs, then, replete,
ascended , fortified to sullen work
after a digestive puff
A glimpse of sun is better than none,
must learn to be more grateful for these, my gifts,
the vessel drifts, time floats, ice too.
Less temperate climes, incursive east wind,
will blast and burn, singeing our lashes
saying only we have committed sin
a mortal sin, the sin of not being them.
Leeward, a cacophony and splashes
Dolphins, a school, weirdly mocking, unabashed.
Plumber’s Sky:
dour Teutonic one,
sad sardonic one,
improving on perfection for the hell of it,
making your own bed, lying in it,
finding your head in clear,
Sea air.
Mummer’s Sky:
sour, demonic one,
crazed hispanic one,
enjoying your rejection for the shell of it,
having you own cake and eating it,
resting your bones over there,
Blue chair
Number’s Sky:
not a chronic one,
a down the drainpipe one,
tolling your bell for the tell of it,
being yourself and loving it,
holding a winning hand,
Deuces
Contagious creed
outrageous seed,
litigious nuns
religious guns,
Canon fodder law,
martial copper law,
common senseless law…
Runaway, runaway, runaway
To where, to where, to where?
Have a week in Mozambique;
worry sheep in Martinique;
act suspicious in Mauritius;
bake Alaska in Madagascar..
Chuck the world in a bucket,
drop it in the wishing well
‘Sewer grapes, capers, tourque armada…’
Will the din ever cease, what for a moments peace!
Giblets & Ghibellines, a splurge of ante-pastor.
Parricidal, opus deified, maple turnovers,
old sage oakum, and mudlark, turdal
tidal thames, sloops in misty river,
Quiver.
An assignation in Flandirge Veal.
Conspiracy with merge derby, whispers and flies.
Glue the tumbril to the blade.
A deal is made, we swell at dawn to Deptford Dock.
…3hrs on a Prox,
the clock struck a passer-by,
who,
deeply gashed,
hailed a passing ambulance on its way,
as luck would have it,
to
a
Sepia
Krankenhouse.
Sleepy John Sideways
leftsides, cocooned, pilled,
double egged, buttered, toasted
snoods with paddies, void of form,
contactless, warmgloved, burbling
fungus imp blooms via
lenseless nosepinchers,
splatburst on malmet axminster,
pile or wanton called by siren
earthpull bells.
Another bitty night, the wind’s to blame,
the Ham, the game, the Cheese, they all took part,
but did not do what you did, Maria…
You sly one, you twisted, silent, deadly sister
Due to your emission, I will suffer
endless tumult and derision and you will
live to lie in pastures new as if butter did not melt
Guts are a bit choppy, the wind’s to blame
I explain to the assembled throng who
Conclude it was me, not you who caused the pong
Now, simpled, feeling a complicit tool
You play it Cool, queen the art of cool,
woman’s grudge is women’s definition,
Powder your nose, pass the ammunition.
Grimbeau 