On Mortimer Grimm

On Mortimer Grimm by Barbara Meyer-Spidell circa 1992
(a semi-complete story)


Mortimer Grimm, whose lips were thin, and pur-sed and cur- sed and twisted, sat on his stool, pretending to drool and began a story, most often rehearsed.

Today he was a pirate on the shores off east with a bird named Madrid whom he cared for not in the least.

With a leer, a jeer and a beer, he promised to eat that enslaved bird, he had been saving for a feast.

Festooned in bright rainbowy colours so gay , poor bird Madrid, did not see things quite the same way....and so he began his plot to escape the very next day.

For Mortimer Grimm, whose lips were clearly quite thin, surely would do the wicked deed, at least one day, and although the threats seemed harmless, AT FIRST, and the jest of it all had grown old LAST MAY!

For twleve years hence, to the day, he had heard it all before, and was beginning to bore and knew there was more to life....and knew ...and knew...and wanted MORE!

For now the time had come to worry, for before he was to be cooked with a peach curry, he would make time to scurry....and thus this plot begins to thicken and I will tell it to you quickly so that your heart does not quicken...

...with a speed of light, Madrid catapulted his cage into a tray which toppled to the floor from the mantle. Then with a quick push fell the plant to the left and When Mortimer Grimm whose lips really really were quite thin, approached, Madrid grabbed him squarely with his beak, and anxiously flapped in morse code that Mortimer Grimm better open the cage and alas he did and with a flee and a plea Madrid flew out the door, back to the shore where this had all begun and went home to find his Mum. Which he did!