Vibe changes sundown
Clustered scapples save the day
White wine weds olives
Anglepoised action stations
Awaiting further information
To impart to my reader
Zelda ‘Toots’ Zuchenslooper
A dogged fighter
Carniverous wolverine
Hypercyclically disposed
Tea and oranges
So we cut the abstract,
not like light or mayhem
See that, I missed it too
Perhaps it…no
Don’t fall for that
Luxury
Turn off the light.
Shan’t see now
Angels
This is you and me
Once immediate
Like a memory
Of
Important lightning
Dream this:
magnum opus lazulies
goose cystic bandoliers,
Daft, soft, puce mask
Blank buttercups
adorn droll seagulls;
Sometimes squashed
sonatas bleed;
small floppy alps
blister the horizon;
gorse wind heathers
…
A long path alone,
untrodden,
as,
you presume,
like so many others.
Likelyhoods are certainties, you conclude.
Breathe the same air or what!
Steady Tyger!
Who rattled your cage, Pal?
People,
just people.
People like you with
splendid agendas,
like mine,
hidden treasure,
an encrypted chart,
a musty cave,
six big,
red daisies,
bad music,
comfy
wrecking ball.
Twenty-Four
Seven
Heaven
…mad rush phantom turd
fear false alarm no bombs
all clear for now slip back
down fizzy coffee.
air room fug.
World flora crown sill:
red rose,
cactus rose and aloe vera,
baby cactus rose,
yucca – George the summat,
stray leafy leaf
avoids peach tobacco
stage curtains,
old small paned iron strip windows,
titan thickening privet
sprouting lawn,
brick brown semi
some big trees hide
simple horizon
planeless skies
Do-da-do-da-day…
at wadis elands
sip and natter,
hippos chew over
schedules and spreadsheets,
a baboon breaks cover
to bag a lax flamingo…
The sleepy papergirl wends
deftly shutting gates behind her,
delivers her wares:
vaporises,
sun beats flush soft
surges on verges…
more vainglorious burblings:
chattering classes
do not pay to rent
my ears with plummy guff,
hoarse hacks heckle, and snooties
snotter and guffaw.
True Sloth don’t rise.
Nine bleeps.
The leather hunters make bone soup,
dowse piss on the curing hides.
Red Lorry due at ten
Yellow lorry twelve
Sit
in sun
sat in sun
sat set sit stop
cloud two times so far
of late big black slug slow
cloud scuds west left me satin
shade so I wait to sit in sun…
Sun!
Too slow
more cloud chart
black sea blue tear
drop ash in ash tray
wait to sit in some sun
soon see no more blue black sea
now sat I sing of sun sat in
Approaching Four:
Darkening December Afternoon.
Radio and slippers on.
No pipe, or Drum,
or wattle daub.
No dread tattoo.
Still too early for the Angelus bell
– no one sounds one round here anyway –
not that I’ve heard.
Never saw one neither.
Leafy swell yesterday,
clear night so far,
foggy dew unlikely.
Last Night of…
extreme dreams,
stark monochrome fluid,
freeway floral wallpaper,
rotting damasks, shillelagh,
almonds and formaldehyde.
White light, white sheet.
Jammin’ Jerusalem
Jute wailing bunnies.
Then,
exhausted from the lie-in:
cobalt clear still sky
flossed with high flying drifts,
orchestras of demi-gods trail
home spent.
We scavenge the tepee for beans,
celebrate love apples with libations of strong coffee,
and weep and fear for the band snakes,
Asian gators, and tigers on the fridge, hiding behind
the fabric conditioner, still ready to pounce on sleepy
Moorhen’s eggs.
Your runnin’ and
your runnin’ and
your runnin’ away
from yourself.
As I was working on my stare
I saw a man who was not there
He wasn’t there again today
I wish my stare would go away
Grimbeau 