Now,
A medicine ball props me up.
I find myself on a purple furlough
from San Drunken to Alchotraz:
fatter, stupider, floundering
wondering
Why –
which is always a stupid question,
as I well know
(should know better
but don’t).
Regrets?
I’ve hand a few…
Perm-interrupt of daydin,
blight noise,
like thistledown,
calls me down for
an absinthe
and
an anchovy.
Stubborn as
stillborn longhorn,
I wrastle with my conch shell
and succumb
Whoops!
A post
Apocalypse
Calypso
Dust.
Sun Ra.
Free jail.
Cordelia
Blimey
O’Reily
Red
Buttons Mushrooms
…after a prolonged retreat
back in the sod-all,
back
to the ordure.
Like micky spillane
Complete with
A brain
In a drain
And that, so it was, till now.
The journal arises
on Whitsun Saturday after a prolonged
jojourn in the land of the tetrahedrons,
inspelled by inchohol (how are things in inchaholy?),
in the leantime a beggar become,
so injured the risk of recovery is
now a threat, like church twice on Sundays,
or school
anyday
…here in pen if not in umbra.
Tea and a pea. A pea and a pee.
Tee tea and a Tee-tee.
A tepee. A PT109. Pete Bog.
A pea on a tee. Peaty Bog.
TP McManus. Tipperary
Tim. Peter Purvis…
Bacon & Egg
on White,
Celestial
choir sings,
Quarry versus Man.
‘Let any among you who is without
stone,
cast the first sin.’
Sanhedrin rules apply, Oscar.
Heads off
for Harper.
Rock Kasbah.
Whiten
Sepulchre.
Breastfeed
Granite Post
Office Party
Pooper
Smart,
smug Smart Alec sat,
soiled by ibex ordure,
popping vindicates
at established fates.
Marquis de Plonqueur
Mozart Violet echoes
conch in Sea.
All is stop.
No ghosts,
(One did look!)
The door!
Is that a dog?
Would it, could it be?
Back from killing conies,
flushing out fat farm rats,
haring up hills,
racing gannets on the strand.
Yes, don’t be silly,
it was here,
it was her.
Fresh as the icy, blue zephyr,
that bid me: ‘How are Ye?’
Jim brings
legal dose,
two bags full,
the dog bolts
the open gate;
found basking,
break dancing
on the rec,
chewing a rhea;
waiting for
a vacant swing,
some spare rib,
to be fetched back
here.
Grimbeau 