Fighting words

Let’s talk fighting millionth time

Say it to my face and not online

Beat you silly in the Undead Burg after having words

Zerg rush, smoked a three of gas vespine and murked ya

Spin your bird home in your Merc afterwards

No more or less than you deserve

Effusive Goneril finishing second to Cordelia, an Athena

Lean into your father’s ears, tell him of your love tearfully

Dearest, you’re mumbling and nothing comes of nothing

I got some nerve, my pox healing down the Locke Hospital

You got some nervous disease, Craiglockheart Hospital.


Fighting imaginary black ice on tyres, tired swerving

Speeding reaching Kilmacud early, scream up Merville

Have her bill the work while I boil the Bosch

Too slow bin it and boil the water in the Russell Hobbs

Ask has she read Hobbes, says she loved Calvin’s transmogrification box

I ask is that a reference

Calvin’s notion elect predestination

She looks at me like I spake with the tongue of a foreign nation

Her pussy looks like bacon and tastes like mayhem, lick it hem to hem

I’m Launcelot horny having killed three men, texting “take off your hennin”

Shem that Ham, lap at it spilled

Pork juice in the dogpound, in sight of Japheth

Before this my balls were lapis

Elaborate internal labyrinth

Alienating literacy inside me

Most consign me to right swipe.


Skin bruised patterned like a Battenburg

Nine or ten or twenty stitches som’at like that

You wanna fight me, gotta beat three of my best generals

Robert Graves’ rendering of Belisarius

I am commissarius in these parts

Coming serious with a Byzantine heart

You’re at the commissary requesting chicken hearts.


Get the scraps and I get in scraps

I’m the flaking, fading paint in the studio of Francis Bacon

Aesthete’s boxing, flashing paps

Other runners chances taken

Your chance to escape road not taken

Takedown on gravel, mayhem my knees scraped like a Nazarene’s back

Athletic shocking, shoot off like ass packed like nitrous gas cannister

On the lash that someone spared too much

Dash attack turn a Pokémon foe’s face mush.


Collar and elbow style wrestling, back take then hands

Truss to escape half mount, buck make space get out

Can’t talk things through with Aaron’s rod, better pray to God

When I’m ag troid, my fists get red and I get rid, gorblimey

Of any leftover temper, command a tempter behind me

Latina from Argentina, patina semi-precious made of bronze

Sending me pictures in the thong

My phone gallery like James Bonds’

Back in two twist lamb’s tail, I need a piss

I’ll refill these, up she steps

Dress lifts above the knees, only a half inch

Thighs like the flank of the bronze bull of Apis

Deign to eat in the litter tray, entrée is catpiss

Spines and milk, human cactus

Guaranteed jab hit no practice

She’s dropping it like it’s hot

I’m gurgling like Jabba the Hutt.

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