Inksmith

by grimbeau

Playwright of the Western World
Slumped, grubby, glum
droll crestfallen mountebank

Listening to words
in tinny sweatshop headphones
getting excited

Outside this rusty window
Scarlet fuschias droop in hope
under rampant brambles.

Gormless cruel October stalks
This is some crumbling hillfort
In the middle of muddle

Some sub-primeval
Lambent semi-detached hovel
Mortgaged up to the eyeballs

My name is sometimes Gormley
Quine, Drake, Bagehot or Maggott
Depends who you are

My lipstick is lopsided
I never got the knack of it
Or tying shoelaces

Time, place & action
Provide diversionary tactics
Frame by frame by frame…

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