Grimbeau

A cooling breeze
up here
on the dark side
of the sun:
bins rumble
sleepily,
need a feed,
or do I?

Dander up,
Dumbo down…
float like a
gutter fly,
sing like a flea.

Get shorter!
Elmore shores
in the mean
streets of heaven,
mixing it
with the Inquisition:
‘Who hid the Remington?’
‘Peter the Punter.’

Eyes dry
savages muzzled
in dense desert
whirlpool,
vortex,
abyss,
bliss.

Terse nerval Ermintruder
Grunts and moves on.
Rambling yak cheviot.
Hear that harp!
Whisking up
A maelstrom