Midday
Wafer thin ham, poached eggs,
& toast on the way.
The beeps, the beeps, the beeps…
it is afternoon!
Took a stroll around, saw what gives.
Shoulder pain.
Baked pseuds and garrottes
Accompany
The shrews for luncheon.
PC Plod enjoys his truncheon,
wielding it without compunction,
except of course in Rotherham
where no bugger gives a damn
about reports of
babes and sucklings
You fuck them up
We fuck them off,
Quite puts me off
The Strogonoff
We require your desire,
drag your carcass
from the mire.
To get drier, light a fire,
hang up your dripping socks.
Paul de Koch mocks your lot
A little birdie told me.
Flew into a Jealous rage,
At Jimmy Page,
the topmost
riff in rock.
Put out the cat
& the candle,
Phisss!
Meorghh!
Ouch!
You little-shit, Chuckles!
Go on, treat yourself:
Have a wee one;
Pipe up fresh warm coffee;
Collect new fresh water
from the uphill stream;
Turn off lantern tap.
Time to turn on Turtle?
Go make Myrtle Purple?
No, not now Nigel…
Laters:
Squeaks in Frongs
Three-In-One:
Shed
Instead proceed
moving forward,
leaning, faking
baby bader steps,
to the garden gate…
Vicinity & Beyond!
Transparently puny:
crouched, shifting, jumpy.
Sugar load mountain.
Spoon that spoonful.
Croon tune, fart of pixie.
Hammy line; Bambi-mine.
Sulk in silken mulch:
Gulchmen stacked neat
On Ass lawn by door,
calling cactus cool:
enter Geraldo reprising
Cucumber Rumba.
Clever blunder
Cast asunder syncopating
Generation rehydrating.
A faux
Universe wilts
on the mantel.
Up propped by
Gormonghastly
Candelabra
Further west,
kinda seaward
Gawdyfauve
Naive postcard:
At last!
Salisbury
Greets the coast:
Crumbledown,
Tumbledown
Cinque City
By the sea.
Slurping milk stout
on a sensible,
suburban bench:
Asyl of sound
self-sacrifice.
If paradise is
half as nice:
tremolos
so sweet
‘More power to you elbow,
me old Mucker!
That’s just the ticket…
Sit down and make a stand!’
said Commissar
Commissionaire
pausing for chat,
‘ Where’s it at Comrade Cat?’
‘ Ain’t you heard, old fellow me lad
There’s one gone off
in Commercial St!’
spent
Reading, reading,
reading
my back pages
Wincing & chuckling;
embarrassed & confused,
dazed & amused.
Impertinent little jerk
Shaking a dead man’s geraniums.
I am the guy who
wrote this shit
Am
Nowt kicked off (or so I’m told)
The sad old Sun still tries
to muscle in
break out, break in…
and have you heard?
The latest scandal,
the last straw:
No buses to Mortgagetown on Sundays
(and Bank Holidays)…
And there’s more…
No peas for the wicked,
It is rumoured
the pigs had them with the lobster.
No respect, these types.
Dyslexics with a read only memory,
they say,
lack self-knowledge.
Read and
right and wrong.
Cheroot smoke
plumes and wisps
Effigy, Eulogy, Ecstasy…
Bingo!
In Thames Ditton
A drowned kitten
In your own backyard.
Smartphone spews
Headjuice on Muesli.
Grimbeau 