Snitch

by grimbeau

Grimbeau

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Up at the crack of doom and so it pours,

acrid quicklime, gregarious sash window,

drone buzz, sable confetti, nasal toot,

sootfall, gasp, volume, mass. What folly, what

pulchritude, what bafflement. Life was a

giant veiny nose, a red herring, a

wanton flop. So be it. Que Sera, Sera.

Horace Day, Matt Busby, James `The Fact` Durante…

pock dugout, dabbed down and dusted copious

cloud of potassium permanganate,

spotlighted by Lazarus, light reveals

white head and lost tribe of Erin: Quilty’s Pals.

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