Category: Filí my pockets
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A conqueror’s treason. Conker season. Leave you conked Zonked out, chronic reefer I’m chiefing it and not briefly. Bringing in flock-trod sheafs, purple wolf among the sheep. The shocked few weep, nights sleepless and dark’s brief; Shock troops put paid to any vain hope of reprieve. She is my vein dope; my amazing steed To…
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Assaulting the world
One ring on with the big black stone Took the rest off, signalling ending oaths Snail tendencies, known for going slow. Going through it all on my own. They can’t ring to show Love, because they don’t know what’s up. Keep shtum. Word’s mum. They never numbly kissed a ring to show the devil loyalty…
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Butcher
Flyblown Her cutlets. Touch by taste Her leg in lace. Thighbones, lie lows Sky-sewn rhizomes. When she is away All the world’s phrasing goodness is locked away; Kept at bay behind a punishing net, Like a ginger sandwich-filler’s butter-eager locks against a mesh. Demented from the length of time I spent inside my oubliette mind.
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Flockwatcher
Awake again today. The lark still lies. Dark the rilles which remark “Still night”. Lies still while the smart fox disguises what ills his corpse-mind prizes; Skulks, prones, courts day’s first strokes upon his rufous cloak and flanks; Watched flock moving over bitten salient with the unassailability of a tank.
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Impossible ceasefire
Having found folk fails stopping me wondering which abode Could have been my home; which bozo one of my folks. My life an overkissed toad with no princely signs Searching phonebooks, what for mystifies. I can no more be stopped Than a coin dropped from atop Some unlopped giant can be stymied By a leaf.…