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Sordid sex
We each take a wrap, drug misuse She’s got my back, like my masseuse Like her BJJ belt’s blue I hit it from the back baby, room’s a zoo Jaw chewing, I’m no longer human Eyes old and blue, I’m a 50s crooner And they all wanna hear my tunes Leaving Hamelin with all women…
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A million cults
Marched until she was sick, until she could go no further Must sit must s- A woman agonised by sultana-sized piles Cig-parched Breaks apart a Spar-brand Mars Bar for her sick child Wrapped in untanned hides, one night’s fighting back to Medieval times. Strange and violent viking cults returned overnight. Rape gospels. The new God’s…
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Murmurs from the end
Skies disguised as oceanbottoms No more Everest corpse blue. Missile scorched Two left tube three this morning at twelve past two Troupe two, troop corps nine reporting for duty Static, even the emergency channels. Scanning. Keep scanning. No recordings on repeat like television had imagined Survivors report to this beach or that base within reach…
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Call to arms
In my quaint keep, in his keeping; Exhort to action labour sore limbs My cat limns quietly by my ankle Limbs spread at Vitruvian angles Disobey the sanctions of the day Gainsay minor precepts, stay up late No place kept in Hell for late sleepers.
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Dirty secret
Nowadays admitting you’re a poet’s like Telling someone you were IRA back in the day A dirty secret whose telling betrays altogether too much of the true shape, Or that you had a teenage girlfriend back, quote, when the going was good, People look at you strangely, as well they should; The poet like bowyer…
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Alchemisland 