Tag: poem
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Limb remnant luncheon spot
Arms fed into my mincer Crabs running off with bits of you held in their pincers How innocent I acted, would have impressed Harold Pinter. Handpalm redder than Titian’s printer; Loved ginger bints, that painter. You said it but you won’t see her later, Not even if you squint.
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Gadaí
An insistent, imploring chorus demanding I become a defiler, From the storage room where I keep my files and tormenting knife. A spotty trail of dotwork violence, wine from a hollowed vein, Any smart squaddy could follow, from mine to the bridge; Tail it in time and, boy, I’d be in a pinch.
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Corpseplace
A quiet bay If anyone else ever came I wasn’t there that day to say hello Or explain the pile of ripe-smelling clothesless bodies Wailing for clay’s embrace, denoting My art’s zenith. Votives For my seaside queen Whose steeds are Stormwave and Decksweep. A cove, a cave deep Moist black from attacks of spit-kin sea…
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Maritime Disaster
Hitting rocks, not at Fromveur Sound Where the Drummond Castle was smashed All hands drowned More ice than sent Titanic down Silks fit for Kubla’s palace stitched up in my gown Investigation proved sailing was first smooth But ultimately careless or unskillful navigation, classic Navy, won the day On beef I’m gravy, provoke me god…
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Modular Janusian
I’ve only two modes Stand up guy or psycho host Poisoned dinners turned men to ghosts Hidden altar, foisted quest Worshipped goat the Baphomet Warmest coat packed for a disposal trip to a frigid, lipcracking coast. The opposite of boasting; a suspicious kept-closeness.