Plasma
Heavy air
Deuterium where
Windless wind
Occasions
Miasma
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Arts
April 2, 2014
Fuggy
Altogether now!
Laws were made
for the obedience of Fools,
and the guidance of Wiseguys.
April 2, 2014
Reach for the Skies
The
Wrong sorts
Of
Saharan sands
And car smut,
And fumes
Industrial & Domestic,
Combine
Continental
And homemade
Detritus
become
atmosphere:
some air left.
April 1, 2014
Circuit Broker
Big, thick mist carouses car hum and buzz.
Warmer globe, scoop the parrot, wetlands lie low,
Exposed, vulnerable, prone.
Low emerald hopes incline,
in the windless mill pond offing gannets
fight for alfalfa seven times diurnally.
The French fleet lurk behind the seaweed bar
Waiting for the cows to come home to roost.
March 30, 2014
Gains seem Few
Three, new time
Dante on.
Hurt reading. Dante hurt.
On reading.
Hurt on. Reading Dante.
On reading.
Dante hurt.
Hurt Dante.
Reading on.
Five, new time.
March 28, 2014
Play School Run
One…
Moo-cows and moo-bulls
thick mist and drizzle.
With window open I give
Whisht; ruff & honours paused,
Play-Boys & Play-Girls
dragged half-dead from dream
to school
to play.
Two…
The big kids attend
grownup therapy
later with grownups.
Children in Need,
they exasp, have these!
Comic relief, they
sad clown, give me some
I need it.
Three…
How they chuckle
at their chosen lot.
Today, we will not
play with cats
learn
a nursery rhyme called:
Brock the Bad
Bad Badger.
Four…
The children will nap,
not get to the last,
best dream,
and cry and
scream, and run away
to live with cats and
friendly badgers
in the woods.
Five…
It is there you can
Contract polio,
malaria, diphtheria, and hysteria
like the big kids who
fetch you later and
scold you for what they’ve been through.
You will learn a lesson
They will regret.
March 28, 2014
Many Happy Returns
Adeline
slipped away
alone
with herself
together
she walked
into
the river
Forever
March 27, 2014
Been Fishin’
Company and drink
enter the room
warm menace, sardonic, knowing, sage
Scarlatti.
When this episode, this little jolly, is over, is it
another Tempest.
An
attractive, familiar, alternative,
sickening, horrific, act of self-harm,
abuse, and neglect?
Why this lack of worth, of purpose, of me?
But,
if this is me how can the alternative
attractive familiar be denied?
Take a good look at the situation.
How does one change it, confront, combat it?
Have a nice day!
Sinball!
Without a hangover as well.
Forget the bottle,
you got the bottle.
Repression.
Gonna play this game of life to win:
shower at eight, sort papers, get creamed up
and dressed
and go,go,go…
March 25, 2014
Brunch Lake
Not clearing, grey stays
The corseteers drink cream
Chicken cup soups
With gullible croutons
Corrugated tin roof din
Wet cats weep
Waiting for morsels
Or dead fledglings
Drowned maiden flight.
A quick gasper, some goss
Back to whalebones
And big hollow needles
For fat cameleopards
March 25, 2014
Satire is Dead
A feeling of tundra floods the changing room,
showers preoccupied by dirty, bloody,
foot resters.
How one bleeds, unaware of the stream and
puddle under the desk the surge of red
pumping rivulets,
veinfluid villa floor mosaic slopes
delta grouted runnel and gutter.
Nero’s noblest toerag spills his last.
Vomitarium graffiti states clear:
Petronius expired here
Grimbeau 