Tag: writing
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Her vagina was the saga-secreting wound in the back of a dying Valkyrie
Darker and dark those arts I practiced More brutal whips were cracked Until her latticed flank resembled the Nazarene’s back And still she came back She came and came and came, and drank All that came Lank days, greased straight In that post-beef languor Full sex no hang ups Had to leave sorry notes up…
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Dirty sex poem only wretched, toilet-tempered night ghouls could ever enjoy
Running rates trading posts would go crazy for Pedometer gains daily equivalent to four restless postmen’s range Smoking haze by acre, through societal change, post-dem USA Reading tracts of Rabelais and it makes more sense than Reddit takes. Got chambermaids, chambered eights Chambers made stately by shameful eighths Chambers made up, for anyone who wants…
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Worthy
Fifteen year waiting room just to see a painting And when at last you get inside to view the installation You part a tacky beaded curtain. Art where the art isn’t the art; You must read supplementary literature to truly be a part You see only a canvas, blank as Mars, and the stubbed out…
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Sibylline books
Indulging in more lines than ordnance survey maps Best laid plan ‘twixt mouse and man Bat flight across vast mapless tracts In rightlight passing flies may cast dragonshadows A line millennia taut suddenly slackens And none of the consulted prophecies illuminate the pattern.
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God of the bus stop
Dying to feel fuck all, get a buzz on at all times Bristling at cold whistling Spandau’s Gold at the bus stop, Ormeau Road With my hand out like a cordial offer to a former foe Passed the old graveyard, whistled Hymn to Pan, accidentally invoked Chaos I couldn’t control in my left hand Tossed…
Alchemisland 