Chewy lamb of god & son ltd
First compact runners
Old new potatoes reheated
Fresh mint sauce of summers
Then and now under lilac cloud
Eyeshadow, outlined by cable mascara
And toothpick telegraph poles that scud
Willy-nilly, abandoned to the coal nirvana
Trees call another dusk
So, spill coffee over oneself and kitchen.
Result: soft summer incandescent
Rage! Against a covering of lichen
Sludge, puddle,, brute granulated isthmus
And slipper. Tears of hopelessness well up
And the day is defined as sloth and neglect
Dream of cream cakes, water skis and beaches.
Humanism really ought to practise
What it preaches.
Walt sat on the armchair like a mole
on an
abscess contemplating how much space one can
waste in a single average lifetime:
forty-three hectares, approximately, he concluded,
lobbing his third tin of
Foster’s on the parched hearth…
Grimbeau 