Tuesday 20 December 2022

'the tragedy of an oversexed peasant boy' (draft/unfinished)


Cold as branks invading your mouth 

another sexed compress patted divan

curb-mounted & all the children get out

line up against the wall 

the quietest regicide walks home  

to feeling gaggled 

a necklace of glass 

beads down your throat 

it burrows a pros & cons  

to survive twisting leopards bane 

devils helmet the queen of all poisons 

on parricided come downs

mum burns a 

starry mark or padded path to heaven

the local authority smarting 

its multisystemic therapy

carved from sessile oak

making hematoma flowers not permanent, 

sweet, not long lasting

wastling in a fugue state 

fingerhooked from top-bunk

like car alarms to life itself.


Or a crooked pool to

Darkes Lne, its a long way home

bedwet in the middle of a room 

& what do you know about 

reasonable chastisements nightglued

around my head innocence is true 

in dead grass

nothing lives from Recreation Way 

to Green Porch Close. Remember

Grasswort & golden samphires, 

Loverdose Red Kiss Eau de Parfum 

Dads head burning keys to ASDA carparks,

agal the family unit 

the local domiciliary, internal interior 

sensing chemicals in the web 

sweated glass black henbane 

innocence is true 

as its breaks over haloed &

against hair in the punctum 

mutter, the queen of poisons

nights scrapping mattresses in 

air dry tomorrow 

moults, reared in transparent 

plastic box houses with which a body 

becomes separated 

from another body in order to bemutter

ing, why bloods

sing up like cheap Hock and Mayfairs 

stuck to fingertips