Zak Mould

by grimbeau

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Grimbeau

Still farting around

unsettled, fidgety,

detached, remote?

Then go take Dump!

Tick the Box!

Sign out!

*

Hazy murk soon spreads,

dampens the daylight,

giant hogweed encroach

harbouring malicious intent

*

You to blister, to paralyse,

to analyse stragglers,

scantily clad day-trippers,

pale gormless nudists,

innocent blithe minors,

demented wayward majors.

*

Normality is resumed at last.

The regular service

The bland repast.

A strict diet of worms and woodlice.

The occasional festive

peppering of capers.

Stuffed Olives if you’re lucky.

*

So, go Squawk

Scrabble and squabble

for scraps cooped up in your hovel.

Grovel for a drop to drink

acknowledging your unworthiness

with ingratitude and contempt.

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