Month: Jan 2026
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Selling your good hobnail boots for the few bob to toss in the collection plate of a Sunday, and also to stand the lads a few jars in Black Tom’s after
Seeing patterns like loafed glass fractures Pull out to bird view Making taken birds into pervs That’s my purview Three stars, hard to sate That’s my review Great curves like a place for racing through Now, in the rearview Flicking 33s at other masons Eating triple plates meanwhile Haters who had lots to say when…
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The Story of the Eye
When I hear sirens And see blue headlights Reflected off the underbelly of the sky I look my wife in the eye and smile Tell her to go back inside Set everything alight Inside, you see, it is very slight A thousand copies of The Story of the Eye By George Bataille, a favourite of…
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The peasants leave the city
Heatreader’s mercury ominously sank down A dank, filthy evening over which vile, brittle-maned Horae crook proudly The angstridden husbandmen and dying commoners leave no accounts Leafless trees, long lines of toothless fleariddens fleeing Empty streets no sounds Mercury sat frowning His meagre allowance drowned The King sat down, stable but for his straightening cane And…
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Yesterday’s pussymilk saucer has developed a skin over the top, and soon will devolve into the mettle-resetting goddess cheese we here all love to eat
Submerge your pussy in milk for a cheap, done-and-gone thrill My beating heart be still, gazing upon her knicker’s frills They are a French kind, with straps, bells, and whistles Made me lose my mind Grip the rail to sustain wherewithal Jip like a railgun rail, white whale stains on her bare-it-all apparel.
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Toastcrunch not unlike the explosion of bone underfoot
Tucking into Toad in the Hole Toasted Hovis with butter Bitter cold creates toeless homeless Unmedicated schizos mutter Gushing rain on Dublin Life’s a Subi Fast, no idea where I’m going Driven like it’s stolen, assuming That soon you’ll ring me wanting sewer stones.
Alchemisland 