I could’ve slept all night
I
Cudave schleppt
All night…&
Stillav’schlept summore
I
Kudda did
Sumthings
Eye’ve
Nefferdun
Bevor….
I’ll never know wot made it so
Xcitin’
Wen allat wonce my art
Took flite
I
Ownly no that shee
Began two dance wivced
Me
I
Cuddadanssed
Darnstdarnsed
Allnite.
Grabbed a bite and had my pills,
found a lorry on the doorstep.
It’s enough to make you sleep
on the underside of the sheet.
Something smells
like burnt Mamba.
It must be
Dinner time.
How can you
play the lute
at a time
such as this?
Idling around upstairs:
the crows nest on a dead
lead soft afternoon.
Was that our gate?
Is the back door locked?
Pscho-burglars,
Killer-flyers,
Mutant neighbours, midweek papers,
possibly a bloody postman!
hello…
hullo…
Helloohh…
stagnant pause (eleven years)…
sighs…(two short, one longer)
footfall on stair…
Shostokovich climaxes…
A throat clears…
Blue flush of toilet…
Phulushhh…
‘What was it?…’
‘When I picked it up it was dead…hisss
I mean dead happened just as I picked it up…
the other one was the paper boy…’
Deeep breathes…
so glad it was just a piddling matter.
A blind, dead driver
in front
slows and
indicates all options
before a left at the lights opposite
a set sun of cheap stuff
and loss leaders
that call the believers
and sinners to shop.
All the trees
are brown
and the
carpet is grey.
I went
for
a splash
on a summer’s day…
Fat Neighbours Incident
‘oh, I say! Aren’t you fat?’
Inflated silent rage and…
‘Pot Black’
A shot rings out, the lawnmowers stop.
‘I don’t understand’
A cryptic slaughter.
disseminate the creasote,
eliminate the soft soap,
perpetrate a bank job,
and don’t mess with canneloni beans
You’ve not to…
obliviate the blue note
denigrate an old scrote,
consummate a dead goat
and then defenestrate the queen
look at the sun
it’s great fun
make yourself blind
and then it’s done
darkness ain’t all bad
remember to…
make a resolution
to eat a rosicrucean
and celebrate confusion
and don’t go to sleep before your dreams
One more time!
Don’t go to sleep before your dreams…yeah!
So, farewell then, Ray Manzarek
Baroque’n’Roll Pyro:
Vox of Reason
Of Strange Doors.
Cremation?
Special Friend.
Thigh deep wading in the river,
Fading lilies in her hair she whistles
Cool air as the black night rests
A retinue in St. Cuthbert’s belfry
Fading lilies in her hair she whistles
This is not the dawn of last year:
A retinue in St. Cuthbert’s belfry
Knows it is another night of wonder
This is not the dawn of last year,
For there, beyond the railway sleeper
The retinue in St. Cuthbert’s belfry
Know Love is rising
Here, beyond the railway sleeper
Thigh deep wading in the river,
Fresh Love is rising from
Cool air as the black night rests.
Grimbeau 