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Hungover curmudgeon
Still hot on his measured breath and belch He fought to quell the waking before it reached his legs. Cheap cider’s stench cordite-acrid. At length He drew up and stretched like a pauper’s penny Rose and before long threw up. His life become a black hole Such that might interest Hawking and Penrose. Whenever he…
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Sense
E’en through pent nose could he smell it He wished his very senses less developed Or to have fewer appendages, namely his nose; Joy when that stench’s source is appended, Until then, let scent sense’s agent be apprehended. A mind little minded by the company of men A mendicant always, away from all of them,…
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Afternoon séance
Messages pleading from dead relatives Revealed in secret bleeding bone tongues A lexicon of scorched undersides Unguent for the pus swollen wounds of those left behind. A fire language, puzzling to living minds I strive for it, I will die for it. With hundreds of words for screaming But none for love or life or…
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Homemade luck
I’m that boy who, because he wore trousers that he had received That very evening On which he turned eighteen, which him as adult delineated, Could not board the lifeboats, Could but bawl as they noised away emptily, Full of women and children like the thoughts of soldiers. The clock ticks over, you can’t fix…
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Choke ‘um
Tantric, orgasm through asphyx Backward aspect, good that the mask fits Pierre Bernard, the Great Oom She went to Barnard, heard they had great rooms High grades, paid scholarship, even her food Was provided, better to fuel and sustain the next generation’s best and brightest flames Walking along the esplanade with my mad ex mot…
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Alchemisland 