Grimbeau

Scroodles

Tag: Magic Realism

The Tragic Disappearance of All Known Stuff

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1

Worsted, Tweed, Galician calicos, reamed

cotton screed, diaphanous silks, dour,

coarse linens, Chinese screen tableaux

of mislaid epochs, safe and unsafe tapestries,

sad stacked in the old mead hall, the conference centre,

the hubristic hub of soft arrogance now

Abandoned.

 

2

The once sure folk have fled, melted and mutated,

The meek ones headed for the hills, they crouch

and mooch grumpy, sucking stale breadsticks

in their holes, the old caves and calcified barrows.

The diehards fought foolhardy rear-guard actions –

smouldering stockyard bone stooks  stand pyrrhic

Sacrifice

 

3

 

With the Labyrinthines gone away, nature is displeased,

Ever abhorrent of void it convenes

Bison, heck, leopard, eel and titmouse,

Louse, curlew, ptarmigan, to settle

a modus of repair. They soon conclude the obvious:

You are only as good as your last, worst

Algorithm

The Naked Brunch

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Frugal Dougal

Plumped for Strudel

to accompany his

King Prawn Poodle

 

Beneficence

 

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Slice up the orange

segments on…

 

aluminium sink top

undulant altarpiece

Orange offering

 

A savant of the rite

wipes rustic

ludic breadknife

serrates thick zest

 

splices pith, quartiles

flesh in succulent

ghoulish

garish

gauche

gum shields

skin & pith intact

snaffled up cutish

tense borne by bent paw

over caustic chasm

 

Sure chariot passes

Imperious, regal, sublime

Sedate above vile

sundry understuffs:

Abysmal  unmentionables,

Microbial, teeming rakes

Gyrating about the obscene floor

 

 

one of my heads in

bindweed, strangulating

taut shoelace gristle,

fleet heat seeking

missile, destination

amygdala sun spot

When Epidurals take Stock

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Stumbled, hugged, slurped,

puffed the grizzly, mizzly

still born grim morn

 

Away with the furies,

the septic harpies,

the skivvying puggled blurb,

 

the chivvying, nagging

behemoth of claptrap and piffle

squatting in my gnomic canyon.

 

The limescale crumbles line the mug

The unicorn dismantles the cradle

The dish does away with the spoon.

 

Everyone chips in when

Push comes to shove

At the heel of the hunt

Black Sheep

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Chill falls fast on fingers,

weighty air,

stark draught,

feet echo shiny,

clicks in corridor.

_

 

Still, stall stiff on collar,

chiding air,

bark wrath,

face grotto slimy,

bricks in cellar door

 

Bust

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Working away at this old stone,

older than you or I,

older than the hills,

the sea,

the sky.

A chip here, a scrape there, turn

it round assisted

by a cast of thousands,

starring Rock

as Itself.

Roxy

A woman crossing a stile after the flooding in the Thames Valley, December 1915

 

Deep dark blue

Indigo Ink

Squids under

Black Seas

 

She crossed herself

hoping to die

how come she

ended up living

a lie?

 

A life sentence…

A death sentence…

A syntax of despair…

 

Quick smart snicker

Polka dot

Gypsy dancer

White skies

 

Kissed the red earth

Dying to live

Ended up dying

A truth

Meat is Murderous

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Goat’s eye moon subsides

Ruthless Heck cows run amok

Von Stroheim goes ape

The Compleat Works of Grimbeau

John Boohan of Kilbeggan

 

#1

What kind of fuel are you?

Wind, she replied,

What about you?

Paper

 

#2

 

When do they beguine

The beguine?

After the

#3

The night had

A thousand

Eyes

Ouch!

Nine hundred and ninety-nine

 

#4

Nights in White Satin:

Freezin’

 

#5

Young and green

Only seventeen

okra

 

#6

Who let the dogs out?

Who let them

in?

 

#7

And now

The end

Is

Here

Pianissimo

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Dark

 

It’s

Curtains:

 

Ambergris

Smattered lovingly

In rugged tapioca.

 

Curtains

Its

 

Bark