Vlad the Impaled

I can’t feed from here

Over oceans and geography

Feeble signals flicker and die

Along those silvered straws of light

That streak the sullen seabed

And race the earth beneath out feet

Through context of distance

I poke your tiny face to make it go away

Until you say

I need you

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Elegy for En

I never dreamt

I swam to you

And sank along the way

~

I never stood

At a waters edge

And pledged there

My life to follow

Its fluid trail

Silvering me to you

On flights of stupid fantasy

~

I never watched the oceans boil

And thought of your self-authored turmoil

I never saw the frigid sheets of anglic rain

And paused to think of you in pain

~

I never stopped

To think of your sorry lot

On your bleached and fennel-fold rock

Garrisoned in some parody of love

And hundreds of klicks out of reach –

~

I fain to stretch so far

But acquaint myself

Of each and every failure

To light a path along the way:

~

I just don’t have

That kind of imagination,

I clutch for the right words to say

~

But give me a dark bun

Impeccably pinned and slinking past

The door of a certain coffee shop

And my shop-soiled heart

Starts soaring in my chest

~

Aglimpse of those again

That might look  at first

Akin to you

But are irredeemably not

Bowling for Conway

 

Those two guys just burst in

Rocking heavy tans

I think you know what I mean

Guns in hand

We all watched in dismay

As they blazed away

With the guns run from Alquaida

(Which is of course

The failed nation state

That straddles the gap

Betwixt Iran and Iraq)

~

The entire hall froze

A sea of shocked faces

Our brave young men

And smattering of women

Who’d just been chilling

With the great Yankee

Game of lawn bowls

Lay themselves down

On their desecrated lawn

~

Their patriotic blood overflowed

The gunnels where the big balls rolled

Strike One against our way of life –

Bullets ripped holes

In sole deodorisers

They leapt in the air

Rattled down among the slain

Burst like gas grenades

~

The world looked on

As our brave boys and girls

Went down like so many skittles

Dying glorious deaths

In ways the mainstream press

Now just won’t report

(I know I’m right, I checked)

 

* If you wish to contribute to the relief effort for this mendacious act of terror, please donate handsomely to http://www.bowlinggreenmassacrefund.com

How Torture Works

 Threaten to drill out my knees

And I’ll confirm my steamy relationship

With Nellie the Elephant

Describe each meaty impact

In lurid detail

Every startled bellow

Rendered vocally

To the very best of my abilities

~

Threaten to burn out my eyes

And I’ll describe my trip to Nibiru for you

How I travelled there on a passing thought

Using aborted babies as rocket fuel

And how the entrance to Planet X

Floats on a river of liberal tears

Just as you always suspected

~

I’ll tell you anything

So go on

Crack open the pliers

Ask me a question

 

 

Birthday Poem

 

Privy you to these

Sweeping statements,

Observations compiled

Over forty-four years:

~

Things that taste good,

Feel good, or smell good

Are generally bad for you

~

Green and brown

Are dull but healthy

Physical exercise

Is intrinsically horrible

~

Fairness is a

Uniquely human concept

It applieth not to Nature

Wellbeingness was

Never really a word

~

Nations can endure

Prolonged psychotic episodes

Trauma is followed by guilt

Which turns in turn

To history

~

It is possible to love

More than one person at a time

But impossible to reconcile that fact

Within one mind

~

Good people die young,

Evil thrives in

The vacuum they leave

~

Yesterday’s war will be

Tomorrow’s glory days

Something to fight for

But rarely ever won

~

Interacting in any way

With the environment

We’ve made is

Slowly killing us

~

Flags are just coloured squares

There can be no such thing

As an alternative fact

~

Words are often underestimated

The camera often lies

Art is entirely pointless

But pleasing, none the less

~

Malignant narcissism

Is a positive evolutionary trait

Ditto psychopathy

Less so benevolence

~

Religion is a control system

Chaos is always

The easiest available option

~

Entropy claims each of us

A foetus has less sense

Than an amoeba

And should factor not

In a woman’s choice

Unless it’s her choice

To factor it there

~

Evil is real

And must be fought

Wherever and

Whenever it appears

~

If you’re not frightened by now

There’s something very wrong with you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Hell of a Thousand Virgins

Bits of me, everywhere

So bring on the virgins

~

The first is young and pale

she tremors and looks ill

I ask her what’s wrong

and urge her to sit down

she tells me she is nervous

this is her first time

then she flushes furiously

her lip quivers

then she breaks into a flood of tears

Gruffly I tell her

everything’s going to be fine

and clumsily I pat her shoulder

~

She jumps back like a startled deer –

Inwardly I sigh,

this is awkward

and so will be the next

and all the ones to follow

~

Next up is dusky and dark-haired

her eyes are wide

and as I soon see, terrified

Her face though flashes with hate

all of it aimed at me

pre-emptively

I dare not lay a finger on her

and she stalks away

with an audible ‘Ha’

~

A redhead emerges

Sporting an array of fascinating freckles

her face though is ash white

and her knuckles clench and unclench

as if she were

fighting monsters in her sleep:

This is her nightmare

I’m her monster

I cannot match that stare

Sheepish, I turn away

~

The next is tall and long limbed

but she won’t meet my eye

and she won’t shake my hand

‘Just get it over with’ she spits

and falls back

like a felled tree

right in front of me

yet nowhere to be seen

~

And so on

and so forth,

My personal conveyor belt

of reluctant flesh;

harrowing encounters

and hollow disappointments

in the hall of sobbing virgins

Scarecrow Prayer

I haven’t been this frightened

Since they dragged me from the womb

Divested me of insight

Left me red and screaming

Through that first and awful night

~

Poor confounded me

With my first world problems

Solipsistic miseries

And tum-te-tum rhyme

Ego sharing crimes on social media

Fuck I’m scared

Shouting in this hollow space

~

My contextual friends

Who grace me with your presence

Harden my heart

Lengthen my sentence

Steel me for the doctor’s forge

Prepare me for that special time

When they come to

Crack me open like a lobster

To get to the red meat

Beneath my alabaster shell