Nut Screws Washer & Bolts…
Us
ungulates are unkosher!
Just old scribes,
shrewmice, shaphams
and hairy sausages.
Rocking dassies,
silver tassies,
the pals of Hyrax,
rotund small,
agile things
Ding-a-Lings
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Journal
March 16, 2014
Bag a Bunnie!
Rabbits
scatter
helter-skelter.
Red risen sun,
Blue gun smoke
on an ill wind,
Sundays in Spring
Bag a Coney
for your honey.
Get old Tony
skin and gut it,
chop it,
jug it,
or,
quite simply,
let it stew,
like hate
and lentils.
March 15, 2014
Tantrum
everything
is
post…worthy
john peel mind rock
zest lime fig leaf:
See!
We quibbled,
she queried.
I squabbled, pram toys. Suck thumb
mendaciously.
Egg fried rice in best sock.
Crippling!
Enact plan
dusk time
March 15, 2014
Loft Asylum
Downstairs out in
the muck yard for
sun and goose bumps.
In for scrambled eggs,
extortionate salmon,
and putrid sachet sauce,
pub rockers on the box
awake memories of migraines.
The rugby marathon starts below,
Seek sanctuary. ..
A Flower Tower.
Here Mandy Toxic nasalises,
clacks corset dry chortles,
bad urbane gags tickle
jodral bankers, rugby refugees,
the happy dead.
Friday nights propose
Saturday’s doze.
March 15, 2014
Overtime
Do-da-do-da-day…
at wadis elands
sip and natter,
hippos chew over
schedules and spreadsheets,
a baboon breaks cover
to bag a lax flamingo…
The sleepy papergirl wends
deftly shutting gates behind her,
delivers her wares:
vaporises,
sun beats flush soft
surges on verges…
more vainglorious burblings:
chattering classes
do not pay to rent
my ears with plummy guff,
hoarse hacks heckle, and snooties
snotter and guffaw.
True Sloth don’t rise.
Nine bleeps.
The leather hunters make bone soup,
dowse piss on the curing hides.
Red Lorry due at ten
Yellow lorry twelve
March 14, 2014
That was not a Pipe
So, farewell Tony Benn,
wild eyed scion of socialist stuff,
that was not really a pipe,
it was surreal
like lobster telephones,
and soggy clocks.
My mate Terry always
mistook you for Dennis Skinner,
but you were thinner on top.
Anyway, he won’t make the same
Mistake again
I hope.
March 14, 2014
Kedgeree
As I kick up a fuss
thrashing about
in the undergrowth
on the boundary,
my furious petulance
amusing the dog-walkers,
Tony Benn is announced dead.
March 14, 2014
Dragged Up
Thick fog, drooping rose…
daybreak,
soft pink sound
footpad breaking glass,
crystal chandelier smashed:
avalanche,
no wonder,
wrists swaddled
heavy
linen
watch.
March 13, 2014
Drifting Torso
Bills and banks bob up
blankly blinklessly
Ghoulishly gawping,
gazing, and grinning
Sink back, you wish, but
they are sure anchored
(remotely controlled
hydraulic timer)
until you will dive in
sever the drogue cord.
Then watch them drift away
out of sight but never mind.
March 13, 2014
Number One Dream
Resent, trust’s wounded beast, lives deep, a profound
scar rifts its nook. Odd weather rouses it:
mood clouds,
orangeade, golden maned breeze, late day sun
knowing in corn grove by stile, John Lee Hooker,
and screams
outside the sky blue window last Friday.
Hurt’s old pals, bacillus and succubus,
they thrive on bad blood, consecrate murder,
and relish the thrill of momentary gore.
Quick, the black and white machete swoops,
You see silhouetted antennae;
open, indigo renaissance skies,
crowds flood through crooked pervious walls,
or melt away down through cleft gloss cobbles.
Grimbeau 