Category: Filí my pockets
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The river of his shield
Duck down worn down, worn out a lot Worn out this fleet shield Bravely has sustained a profusity of blows Beyond the intent of its goat-parted maker. The sleekness and flow of its Greeklusting facade, I wondered oft how it was made; How loud Hippocrene’s creamless flow had been transposed so?
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Rapt, yours
My clean waste basket near collapse Stapleless paper crumpled like granddad’s skin pre-ashes Full of bad starts and hackneyed facets Sections even darting eyes noticed were absolutely shite I hadn’t the excuse of being out of practice nor past prime I was simply ass slime To be used as example of what not to write…
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Wasting canvas
At art. In an end of yard pervert’s wristblurring fervour, The parlour’s palatable urges never seemed further before. My mortar-guarded softness is girdered, furtive and cautious Twenty gruelling stairwells up have I stuck An unsubtle sign. In bold print, font size 25: Only twenty storeys more until you’re a fifth the way to the topmost…
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Ah.
Got more shouting powder than Jon Jones’s club trousers Cut with something for contesting flu City’s congested, took a different route Skipped the queue like I’m guested Licked the cube ’round its edges Ground up bazooka like a legend Gozzy green like a Goblin’s peen my weed One in need skimmed a fiver so I…
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Bloodceiling
A worrying red star glued to the sky I met the convict on the mire Together, we passed time skimming a handful of Irish Bibles Across a Tiber tired of tribunes, tithes, troopers, Trojans, and triremes. The wished-dry swimming pool of my veins at capacity on a Friday My timered life a poorly poured fried…
Alchemisland 