afflict ME NOT mockery
workyshy violets WITTER
no MORE milk today OK
so she say he say hearsay heresy of a heartfelt howl
I must turn way
disregard
Instead…
& was it my luck to find this:
rave on Thom Gunn
serpentine dawn in fifty six
winkle pickled drainpipe ghost
rave on wine gravy shun
we say no-no Missus Minniver
& Walter Pidgeon pipe
off to California
undercover of the night
Lucinda Drama & Brian de Palma
Met up on the set of ‘Nice!’
‘Your face,’ she said
‘Is full of dread
And your head
Is riddled with lice.’
Where’s
a place for us?
There’s
no place for us,
Nowhere
no place for us.
Take my hand
Sit and stare
Take my hand
Share your fear
We’ll find
a new way of dying
We’ll find
a new way of crying
No time,
No hope
No rhyme.
The deep, odd, shock of it hit me in the sun
On the shed path, marooned on a concrete crack
Freed up took in the scene, shocked, turned;
Trundled, older, balder, back up the ramp
Freewheeled, calmer, silent, down the ramp
Came to rest beside the stable table,
Tossed my hair (singular) in the blue breeze
And wiped the puss from Barney’s weeping souls.
The moo-cows are gone home to roast
No more mutinous idiots barge in
Decide to play this game of life to win
Head of
The essential difficulty with Mssr Grimbeau’s
pomes is that they are crap & drivel
Clap-clap!
self-knowledge is
a wonderful thing.
Soft…
What light
Through yonder
Window breaks?
Ssssh!
Merely
A wayward
Cormorant
Called Deirdre
Or so I heard
Cloud cover.
giggle of spoon
on plate.
Dishing up dinner.
Smells sound
Coming up to six.
End of nice days
after tomorrow
just
for a few weeks.
Auric sun on pink wall,
new bronze age.
Savers saved,
survivors not.
So no cause for concern
then:
Sufficient unto the day
is the evil thereof?
Over in the corner you make out a stranger,
you make out a stranger across a musty room,
and suddenly you know,
you know even then,
he needs a wheel and a chair, and a pen…
Wasn’t that sick?
Are you aware?
Me lying dead on the ground,
You in mid-air.
Send in the drones.
Didn’t it miss?
How can they prove?
One who keeps tearing around,
One who can’t move.
Where are the drones?
Send in the drones.
Just when I’d stopped opening wars,
Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours,
Making my entrance again with my nonchalant air,
Sure of my lines,
No one is there.
Don’t you love force?
My call I fear.
I thought that you’d want what I want.
Sorry, my dear.
But where are the drones?
Quick, send in the drones.
Don’t bother, they’re here
Isn’t it sick?
Isn’t it clear,
Losing my timing this late
In my career?
And where are the drones?
There ought to be drones.
Let’s get out of here.
Grimbeau 