Pedal Extremes
Go barefoot,
unstockinged or socked,
as often as you can!
Even if
like me
you have
grotesquely twisted gnarled toes,
suppurating scabby nightmares,
wear your feet with pride.
Feet are wonderful,
if you have some
Flaunt them
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Journal
September 7, 2013
Lassitude, Come Home!
When tempted to run for pinball
do yoga breathing, stand on your head,
and whistle down the wind,
play games
with lazyitis, and why not!
The grizzly nonsense of dossy
dissipation, the thin dry horse
tethered to the crossbar outside
The Molten Slipper Saloon
disaster’s old recipe
Table on the meal when you get
Back home if you have
got a home at all.
August 24, 2013
Nessum Dorma
In the names of gods and sods,
we all perish.
Unlike the giant sink spiders, who,
like Andy duFrais,
made it via drain,
to bask in cool,
silver basins,
asylums,
and bathe in the tumult
of the morning tap tsunami.
Kettle on,
wipe and flush
the mushrooms.
Trousers round
lifeless ankles.
The shame of it!
The shame.
Baby safe in the microwave:
Suffocated. Cars meander still
slate dead drivers slowmo halt
in open sewer.
Ringa ringa roses…
Today,
some place in Shetland,
an upside-down helicopter on sand.
A phone rings, it is my doctor.
He say: ‘I will be late.’
‘Okay’, I say, ‘so will I’.
August 22, 2013
Gin
Postcard:
World Banker
A Week of Wakes
High tides beckon
Water snakes
Sacrum idyll
For Padjamers
Get tranqil,
In Calma…
‘Weather’s here –
Wish you were
Nice.’
Tarakos is
Not like Cos…
So next year…
Charabanc to
Eudaimonia.
August 20, 2013
Cat’s Eyes
As I was working on my stare
I saw a man who was not there
He wasn’t there again today
I wish my stare would go away
August 15, 2013
All that Fall
Opiate wood earth
brunette even glass,
leaf plumes.
Rain insists easy as
heavy tears of Mayo.
A Cuspid day
Fangs a lot.
Frond reaping:
marking out the autumn field
for fallow deer and rabid ox…
-Windows shut?
-Yea…yes: Clunk.
Smoke and mirrors.
A soft, lilac world
turns turtle purple:
Tempes Fuchsia
August 5, 2013
Being Flat
Flat or what? What.
Too much Cider
Saturday night
Seemed a good
Idea
At the time.
Yesterday
Slept a lot
Barely ate
No wonder
I feel flat
This morning.
August 3, 2013
Short Day’s Night into Dawn
Moodpaint:
wild night, wet, sheltered behind big bare tree,
sort of dawn through the petrified tree stems.
Tremble to sleep.
Waking warmer.
New place warm grey speckled yellow, yes, puce.
An apology of sunbeams.
Thirsty or what!
…rushing brook squabbling to the left: yes, down there.
Crazy notion of a little, silver trout.
No rod. Fashion one then. Can’t be arsed.
Have a splash and scoop and carry on.
August 1, 2013
Cleopatra’s Noodle
![[Kidwelly Castle, Carmarthen, Wales] (LOC)](https://i0.wp.com/farm3.static.flickr.com/2584/3751646063_55b3de42a2.jpg "[Kidwelly Castle, Carmarthen, Wales] (LOC)")
Seven-thirty, my life:
cider and ashtray gob, pee (an ocean).
Put the kettle on; spill, make and drink a
glass of mud. Bowel creaks and groans,
there is a hog on the roof…
now above and emptied, dig out the day
to come from the old bog road.
Could have been a toad in another life.
Maybe a camel.
Bactrian of course. Yes, that’s it!
Plonked beside the sphinx waiting for a ride.
Better than Buddy on old Barry beach,
freezing in his duffel coat.
Fires behind windcheaters,
they eat ready-made drumsticks;
glower and growl when approached with a view to a sell.
Neddy gets a toffee apple and pukes on a sandcastle ruin.
Conway not, Kidwelly more likely.
Outside toilets on the fourth floor
always a hazard to the uninitiated
July 31, 2013
Prognosis Oasis
Well, that told it how it was, put plainly.
Food and codeine taken; heavy, post-op
medicated eyes loll there in your head.
Soon the sun and you break through and shine,
Or so the forecast has it. Never give up
on a good forecast, as, one day, it might
give up on you. None of us want that, do us?,
Grimbeau 