Tag: writers
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Zombie
Pills zonk me, conked out like a Haitian zombie For that term thank William Seabrook, writer at his desk and wino in his cups Scoop hound booze hound he loved to hear the hissing sound of dark brown beer, its coursing down balms inner ow Which he first put in print for western attention He…
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Hidden Ritual
In 1971 the Devil released a book and an album After a millennium in the pit he had a head full of tunes Every good guitarist owing and betrothed Every decent singer owes him their throat’s gold Arousal at fame’s suggestion, their souls by deed his at the moment of their disposal All the pills…
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Taking Under Advisement
Small, red-fleshed man sits Napoleon’s shoulder; destiny’s official Deigned command an Emperor, his missives success of missions, Ignore red man red fate endure, corpse of imminent boon grizzily hatcheted Russian factions lined like Risk troops, dice and action and warm jacketed. Breakfast chamber his tricorn tipped low, watery mush to the tip of the bowl…
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Instructions For A Wake
Venerate my demise Venerate me at my demise Whether I was a miser hard on dimes A master charmer fixed on dames A mixer and hod carrier fixing Dame Street Bury me like I was a king Abounding fires let girdle the spot Vile earth in paces measured Payments eclipse my sightless eyes boatman’s tithe…
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Indecisive Patriarchs (Yesah Noah)
Standing at the gates, a Lamassu Second rate your llama zoo Te llamo who? The ark the ark upon the waves, below the graveless dead unsaved and unsavoury Doubt is a slavery, that God didn’t make me, doubt daily rapes me The voice guiding this vessel perilous, this violent earth; the sons of Pelias Dripping,…
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Riot
A stabbed child leaks excuses Inside them resides the urge, hidden like a demiurge Dublin City like the Purge: it burns it burns it burns Thick necked Gards in riot gear cordoning off O’Connell Street Pallid ghouls selling gear, Bordening off lifespans at O’Connell’s feet Where dark delights meet plain daylights and the junk-blue vein…
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Séance 1930
Eager come the recent dead Still naive enough to covet warmth Hearing the living, I am living and this nightmare can end The harsh, stout corpselight; the dead mothing in. Blowing on ashes Bottled nothingness, the nothing is lured into the nothing The mind at war with the mind which is not the mind From…
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Dark America
Vast complex of American misadventure Stairwell lined with tall portraits Depicting naked terrorists reposed like ill-used catamites Forming uncomfortable pyramids of their flesh Two quid flash of disposable camera post-torture Pyramid walls bloody with mishandling. Wars, rumours thereof A desert stormed is a desert reformed Boots recycling dunes, new kingdoms rising The wake of old…