I saw her on my morning
The middle of her night
Blocking the toilet in
Hospital light
I will see her later on
On her morning
And we will argue
about fuck all
This evening in the middle
Of her day
The washing machine will
Stop me from napping
We will eat supper for lunch
And I will dream of
Thermo-Nuclear War
Saturday night
& I ain’t
Got
no
body
Must have dropped it
In Fiona’s
Vestibule
On the way
Here
Evening nightmares evade a gibbous moon
With canny sublimation, molten incantations
Meld in candled pen and ink hard silences,
Reams of craven, puerile words, agitate for love
In the face of victory. Love is lost and awkward
Youth undone.
Under the weather’s
Consistent disappointments
Sly Sleet sinuates –
Adversity revels
In Tombstone pistol whippings
Fatuous sunbeams –
indifferent to fluey colds –
wait above the storm
concocting arcane
ruses, kidding us Tom Fools
Walked up & down stairs
twelve steps up twenty four back
Danger! Loose Slippers
These
mindful
circles
you move in
move in you
move in me
Can you
see your circles
move in me?
No!
nor can
I
We are
thus
safe
Considerable free
time spent pursuing meaning:
Omphalosophy
Watching
dry
paint
Is
less
time
consuming
In
the
final
analysis
Watch the gooks
on Pmq’s
and have pity
for the loos..
Gonks: remember them?
stuffed baize effigies, hand size
Felted arms, legs, hands
Little humpty-dumpties
Head on the body
Jumper pulled over head
Secret policemen
Cook’s Wisty Armageddon
Cheap mister-mannish
dolls born in an oil crisis;
industrial strife
times when lights went off at ten
Mine was called Paulus,
A little gnome who welcomed
You to his home in
Densest Pogle’s Wood
It disintegrated
After various drubbings
in the old twin tub
with a sadistic streak
Gonks became old hat
Space Hoppers were the next fad
Never had one, still drives me mad.
Grimbeau 