Tag: poetry
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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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Yellowism
For every Roman soldier dead Sow daffodil bulbs in his stead In memory, the century flower Endowed with egg or butter’s burnished splendour.
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Werewolfantasies
Hemmed in on Hemwick Charnel Lane Blending paint and pain to devastating effect Every line’s an ending the author can’t explain, even to himself. My writing process involves smoking myself into a mess Then emptying a pen upon the wing of a hen.
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Weed induced
Blind shooting like I’ve got a question for contestant two Wick’s low, Subi full of speed-addicted schemers speeding east of slow Through moth-teeming afterglow, outta Wexford into Wicklow Tinahely straining into slick view. My lot worship the widow of Loughcrew Rolling crude oil hash, mashed with that don’t-mess-with crew Recruited from around: Booterstown, Baltinglass, Carnew…
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Twin freaks
Two brute pulls to prove that I’m a man and pull Two hulls, indulged on a catamaran, everything bulk Acting like I’m wilding with bulging pockets for the cameraman When actually I can’t heat my gaff until they assuage the heat in Iran. She’s Catalan like a Moritz can My low fire’s brittle kindling spits…
Alchemisland 