I refuse to say what Orwell would, and advises we should, convey in one sentence I am a Tennyson and length is my way However penniless are left those who this path take Rapidly dispatched are the savaging papers The niblike point of a me-trained rapier They read my work with a would-be rapist’s sharkish… Read more: Broken lift
Only pure burnt spud dark expunges what I’ve done I am the armoured shark Who swims the pissy sea of the sun Belly full of license plates and surfer’s arms. Night lunges like an unsighted tiger I know what must be done But generous stars must be in place Before the knife can be plunged.
Once upon a sultry molten vine-succouring choking summer Oil spitting out a sump. Bitten ground yielding to a pump Vampires seen abroad in broad day, wearing gimp stuff Pigflown skies, flyblown thighs the price of sleeping outside. You brandish my lust like a hind-bound brand above a bovine rump Brandy and crushed candy that Wonderland’s… Read more: Pale drink
Her decanting stanzas Tickled fancies long lambent She wrote slammish in perfect iambic Every glimpse she provided uprighted me, oniastic nights I only ask nicely. The relief of ice Her thighs might provide I imagined her wide smile That Midas rifle, alive with orgiastic delight Did we demand it, did we ask it Do we… Read more: Poetic scissors
Soot-cloaked the reluctant nurse Gives up her coat to a sufferer of worse colds. My verse extols. Her stately frame Elaborates like Spring On winter variations; Her berry taste; Her Roman face So like some stone grace from ancient day. I run my hand along glass sun-damaged Better to know her ravishing spans.
Alchemisland 
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