Wind has gotten up,
must have overslept.
On the coals up north all night if you ask me:
stopping trains;
leaving bad leaves on the lines,
causing hazards,
hazards strewing huge bleak,
Elkless causeways.
Whistling down closes, windswept
cloisters, alleys and avenues,
soft, flyblown parades and promenades.
The North and the people are tough, soft things.
They can take it, like cockneys in the Blitz
or Peter Sarstedt in empty Biarritz.
What is to do today, to what end?
Option plop is number one.
Option fresh coffee is an ambition.
Option edit does me credit.
Other options are optional.
Rabbits and Guinea fowl
Smiley too will play a part.
Frost becomes Frimaire
Handless in daylight,
dumbed up,
heavy eyed,
slumped posturelessly:
Thinking crafting…
Dreams all smoke and needles.
Warm hot drink in the dark of dawn.
Pink blue grey shadow:
dark orange glow of cold red brick.
Opposite
Car crusted:
Sea salt white sand on metal green frozen kelp.
Neat work by near clear
night.
Tongue twisted morning garglers
dash the mirror. Cough &
splutter.
Showers follow borne
by
Wind from a cold place
Trying too hard; put simply,
can’t decide where to start.
As you mean to go on?
As good as
anywhere.
So here we
are again.
The square one.
A saying that comes from
Radio
so that the
listener
could follow on a grid
in the Radio Times.
But where was the square one?
The middle, the corners,
In the net?
Tried something ingenious:
no go.
It’s getting colder but still:
no snow.
What’s it to be tomorrow:
dunno.
Not the same as today is:
hope so
Tom Daly comes out on you tube.
Has he a book out for Christmas?
Never liked him, smartass it seemed.
Could be a case of jealousy on my part,
but he always seemed
another cocky little bugger like
My Perfect Cousin –
Kevin the Div.
But, mind you, he was thrust
early into the public gaze;
like Shirley Temple, Judy Garland,
or the Daily Mail,
or grown up faces,
and apple sauce,
and Macaulay Caulking,
Micky Rooney, the Queen, and rusks.
Thinking about it
More like Zola Budd
Or Elmer Fudd
Perhaps.
The spectacle
Can be so fickle!
Today
Choppers dominate the news:
one fell on a Glasgow pub,
the others on Lee Rigby,
a squaddie who might have been
going to or coming from a pint.
He was in London in day light,
the Glasgow chopper fell on Friday night
Three days in port
and
crazy on land.
For all destinations are the same:
headlands and customs,
stations and cheap digs.
Over the way
Running round the park,
the leopards in the dark,
brushing our skin,
like dry, soft, well made
shaving brushes.
Seven brothers owned
seven separate farms:
while related,
they found themselves in quite
different fields
Gerunding…
Trembling: after shocked by writing this thing.
Abreacting plaything: underestimating the
Troubling power of saying your meaning.
Unnerving…
Grimbeau 