Garrison
Memory of joy
Forever
Is strangely true
We squint to see it
In the mind’s eye
It is there
Blurred, muffled,
Gore-Tex blue
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Journal
September 22, 2013
Reverie
Ponder
Lost orange months,
Gone like quicksilver fish,
Their trails, fading, once were fragrant
And purple
September 22, 2013
Clowns
At the jukebox
With a timid demeanour
Behind purple drapes
They, with needles and pins,
Listen to Sontag
September 22, 2013
Harlequin
here
is a stillborn,
grey still, day:
a
day to
get lost on the wing.
shivering
in
cold sog:
awaiting
a
long hot shower:
four hours
dreaming
steaming
September 22, 2013
Whistles
Glisten
Sheer sparkling wit,
wild infant crazy hopes,
whose voices, too true, call to us all
like spooks
September 21, 2013
Purgatory
_
Wonky-wheeled about with caution,
discovered prone Bloom, covered in
lampblack, penitently licking up,
almost lapping up, ancient grease
beneath my fridge. Toilet next,
then repatriation to the Lazar
Zones of Bongo-Bongo Land.
Abjection is the will of kippers…
must try harder next time, if…
September 11, 2013
Bugsplat
Waiter!
Bugsplat the soup it’s toxic and orange.
Deft, nimble, fleet of foot, cunning as Ariel,
Waiter swoops and swats the soup.
Everyone is splattered and grumble.
Did you get it, did you get it?
Yes, they got it. Look at them leg it
For the turnstiles.
September 10, 2013
Rite
So,
we
offer up
these
well-prepped
ants testes
to you
gods
of the
firm
ament
for
the
fecund
ditty
of this our
crop of love
age.
Be nice
for this
once,
we
have grown
tired
of
September 8, 2013
Candid Chimera
Last Night of…
extreme dreams,
stark monochrome fluid,
freeway floral wallpaper,
rotting damasks, shillelagh,
almonds and formaldehyde.
White light, white sheet.
Jammin’ Jerusalem
Jute wailing bunnies.
Then,
exhausted from the lie-in:
cobalt clear still sky
flossed with high flying drifts,
orchestras of demi-gods trail
home spent.
We scavenge the tepee for beans,
celebrate love apples with libations of strong coffee,
and weep and fear for the band snakes,
Asian gators, and tigers on the fridge, hiding behind
the fabric conditioner, still ready to pounce on sleepy
Moorhen’s eggs.
Your runnin’ and
your runnin’ and
your runnin’ away
from yourself.
September 7, 2013
Struth
…the sun also rises
Tennish
Nice day!
Ripper
Sloth sleeps
Pollop sucks
The dead floor.
Meantime,
above,
I lodge a suppository
of all knowledge
in my sphincter.
Grimbeau 