Tag: poet
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The hateful sun’s tongueblistering hymns
To taste the SunSon, I sucked vinegar and blood from the sponge A cackling Roman forced the wincing Christ to suck for succour. Older than the bog’s butter the names I must mutter Dark splutters which muster summonable others. When She sings, however shrilly, leathery wings begin to flutter In some divorced and gushing void…
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Judging me
A poem says less than a bed unmade Swearing every other day proves the rule’s usefulness.
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Natural boundaries
The end of all rainbows Where mightiness ends Where mightier no longer lends itself To prolonging Rome. Let clefts And shelves and sheets and seas And peaks and marshes rank with disease Mark borders, beyond which no Roman feet No roman fleets No roman steels Shall seek to steal Or impose leanmaking tithes A screaming…
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Type test
Playful, still a shark though Whole fleet’ll clog lanes if we don’t carpool Kaboom, besiege your place, Gordon at Khartoum Pull up make that nice Saloon car your tomb Harpoon you, red as Barsoom You slid like a drunk off a barstool To the road from the stalled car Taz-twisters of acrid smoke played above…
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Thin places
My foetid mind Sprouts to impotent life Like a dying lighter’s coaxed light Smoked so much kush I’m left a shell impression, a ghost ship. Behind my eyes, the killing potion of my emotionless ghost light. The post-light of goat worship managed my backslide.
Alchemisland 