MAYBE YOU
are all alone
and cannot love
another for for another
to exist would implicate a duality
as surely as
when the detective
in a murder mystery
points the finger
and everyone is shocked
by old Mrs Haversham's behaviour.
But just because
we are all one
does not mean
you do not need
to try to
LOVE ME.
Here are some poems, composed by a puppet,
some are my own and some of them not.
You can like one, or quite like them all,
or simply not like them a hell of a lot.
x
some are my own and some of them not.
You can like one, or quite like them all,
or simply not like them a hell of a lot.
x
Wednesday, 24 October 2012
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Home Cooking by Ruth Padel
You spread our Free Range Duck
Breasts with your trade-mark mix
Of honey, soya, Chinese Five Spice
While I etch
A fingernail down your spine
Ending in a fuck
The length of our kitchen table
Making the bread-board rise
To its feet, the dog beneath us whine,
And Sainsbury's poultry burn.
from Voodoo Shop
Breasts with your trade-mark mix
Of honey, soya, Chinese Five Spice
While I etch
A fingernail down your spine
Ending in a fuck
The length of our kitchen table
Making the bread-board rise
To its feet, the dog beneath us whine,
And Sainsbury's poultry burn.
from Voodoo Shop
Saturday, 20 October 2012
Le Poète
after Rodin
how is it girls
can conjure up
a baby
using just a spoon
of sperm?
that shit sure smells
like alchemy
to me.
a warm bath
or wank
for over a month now
and my nuts feel
like a fun-swim
at my local
swimming pool
so perhaps
some of the magic
is in
me.
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