Tag: writer
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Southside Dublin
Getting head in Deer Park Perfect health, Deepak In the seomra suí she’s showing me South of the border, the River Lee Fewer holes than my old recorder As much blowing, what I ordered I receive, communion on my knees Hands shaking like peace be with you Sucking like she’s taking the soul out too…
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Drugs and crowns
I’m on drugs and crowns Gemheavy sceptres Rugs spun of thread exceptional Ermine gowns with fur mantles colour eglantine Dick eggplantine, often planted Call my dick the plantation All that came before erasing Rumour that I’ll boom it, some foundation You’re frothing like fancy coffee Little death without a coffin You say amazing amazing amazing…
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Old king’s thoughts
Fog settling on barrow downs, holes for old kings I am an old ship’s remnant hull, full of old things High and grounded, looking down wingless angel The world below me raging like an ape volatilated By a net’s embrace, my finger along gilded cage’s bars Something to mark that Midas was here Through grilled…