Grimbeau

Out he mistook

himself & melted

as butter used to

into buttercups

~

Ever so far off

lone agonising

over nothing much

worth speaking of

came a familiar tune…

‘Unstiffen & stretch the legs

While you are at it

Physical jerks

Physical jerks

Come in from the cold

Wrap yourself up well

& put on the scattergown

Dressing not ballroom

Taffeta and glitz non-u

Cold sunshiver morning

Luminous lime lights

Empurpled crippled moonchild

Hanging on the wall

Venetian Tryptych

Daytripper nick-nack…’

~

No tell me about that Mouse Song

“there’ll be blue turds over

the white cliffs of Dover…”

where hollow crowns & throne games

saltpetre the ether &

small good women are slain –

sacrificed for the cause of what?

A bunch of  Silly Bully Boys

at sport just finding out

‘Whose good or bad at games…’