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My role at ragnarok
The word in throat your highness The third toke chokes, high in this Back shed, pure in my defiance Spurning all alliance, turncloak My rage is age of iron, wroth Cold as Hoth my heart bound in iron confines Chains of great weight, as bade Fenrir stay Until the final, violent, schismal day, a dismal…
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Sundaywalk
Up Ticknock for a few spare hours, taking clean air Sweet-scented there, bowers hairy with rufous moss Mica from broken fairy mirrors spelling misluck seven years Banshee combs toothed with tears Sticking up like planted spears.
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Recession of floodwaters, return of black lands
Beware of the dog sign in late July When the fertile Nile is rising Climbing up a duned horizon Effluvial waters grey and brown as are found brackish in old outhouses Leaving departure arrival a wake alluvial He has flown with his wounds from his tomb Three days entombed, he arises to bloom Osiris in…
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Flexskinny
Not a pick on when I flex Not a swollen pectoral to wiggle Not a hilltop bicep to help my visual I’m purely lyrical Hunchback with a voice of syrup They run to me, like spurred shoes squeezing in the stirrup Endangered not extinct, my variety of rhino is spearmint My kitchen floor is lino,…
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The Lighthouse Lads
Three men in a lighthouse Two are never seen again Last left with visage unmoving Fixture of Bedlam’s rooms, in the mask of Agamemnon His words host myriad venoms, he speaks for a shekel Or a respectable speckle of inebriate in his vessel Whilst he speaks, he speaks as a man possessed A frightful vision,…
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Alchemisland 