Just yacked up outside Beshoff’s, probably best off
Most of it was cough bottle
Hacking cough, phlegm’s friends my motto, hunched shoulders
I’ve got presents not presently sitting in a grotto in all red dressed
Smouldering glare chest shove energy backs them off, fearing duress
Slouching, ill-bred, raised rodless so rude and rueful, ruthless
Ever willing to take the cruellest route to lucre, loot’s lure
Leave him traumatised like he did two tours
Leave them toothless no eyes like Event Horizon with Jurassic Park guy
A trinitised dog snoring, anesthetised by Loveliness
A well-probed lute’s allure, face like milk god, mouth like a sewer
In a dark room the light of a computer, compelling them: do it
Icy, minty blue in the soupy gloom, screen-sized pixels superzoom
Going down fast like a trash bag dropped down a chute
Know I’m there when that rock bottoms rushes to greet my shoe
Rifle the corpse of a shot-through trooper
In the chest pocket closest his Marian locket
The last lines he wrote, odes and oaths to his family
A lump arose in my throat
Tears fell which I could not hold, leaf from oak when told
The levee bowling over
The river becomes the road.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment