Still Life
On her veranda
a landowner
Exhales
…a gust of codeine cloud
On Parrot Woods West
where buggy water
sits stale
on crowded crow dead flats
a sun limps homeward
wounded in windless
sheeting mist
Grimbeau
Scroodles
Tag: Nature
October 4, 2013
Gadzooks!
Look out!
An ill wind
Coughs: spits out
Lilac phlegm.
Now smell
sweet almond waft
angry onions:
this garden is
full of livid
sad mad
bramble.
Ghoulish dead potato
crazed leek
rise up to
taste
doomed decay
reeking havoc
hear
the cluck as
amok chickens
weep behind trembling
toffee wrappers
See
Behind that mauve shed
a terrible lettuce
is born.
October 4, 2013
Nibbles
The Rev Nice-Grub paused life struck
shopping list of savoury dainties before her
incomplete: savoury quails eggs, spiced cheeses…
Holy music meandered ox-bowed
midlife muddy water curved solidly,
strong, steady laps undercut the bank
vile, grass clod bays and inlets for voles
cans and ducks. Captives get marooned
on a cut off clump, excised by wake and wind,
and wave forlornly: we wave back, hollow eyed.
Our off white hull stirs large laps as it hums past,
scary aftermath loosens more sods that collapse
under the webfoot gait of ducks and swans
and wellyboots of anglers and toddlers
leaving small gashed inlets for thin quick snakes.
…crudites, nice dips, potato chips, nuts.
September 22, 2013
Reverie
Ponder
Lost orange months,
Gone like quicksilver fish,
Their trails, fading, once were fragrant
And purple
September 12, 2013
Sublime
What bliss is this?
Sea becomes vapour,
drowns now and then,
bobs up, splays fluke,
blows hole, meals mouth,
dives deep, backs down
September 9, 2013
Soft
Inside night rain,
walking titanium lino,
I wahwah wahwah wander,
smoking and sipping,
sloping and drooping.
Outside sodden fuchsias
Burst, brambles stalk
crazed hedgerows,
licked rosebushes wince,
nettles nestle
snuggling dockleaves.
Now Rain wanes,
a crooked hand appears
between salmon drapes,
eases the latch,
sending swoon done air
to soft green
dark dawn.
September 4, 2013
Chisholm Trail Dawn
Join me as I slink to twig the silver
dust away from the campfire’s embers.
See the fire glow: teaspoon it to flame,
Carefully perch the tall, crimson pot atop,
askew atop that is, and dig the day’s
latrine with that small yellow plastic spade.
We are on the outskirts of the craic of dawn.
Scantily clad tidings of cheap skates and
Square war-jaws, cousins to sleep’s hazel
snacks and myxamatosis of your mind’s eye.
September 4, 2013
Calendula
Now,
confound
dermic night flakes,
and,
through air
smoke blizzard,
blink molten dawn
short
to be
Indian summer,
and stroll
pondering
bullfrog Michaelmas
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
July 28, 2013
Down my Way
Elevenish
Big rains water the pampas
washing away dust and clues.
The flora sleeps soaked
and wakes to day kisses
of sun and breeze.
Mind out of time out of mind.
July swings all the way to Westward Ho! and Hell.
The buttercups are salted by soft tears
smoothed away by aphids.
Grimbeau 