News Article

per-VERSE

CreativefeaturedHomePoetryslidingArticle

CW: references to death

 

(1)

Take me to the landfill

let us rot together.

Two bad apples R

                            O

       L

         L

            I

             N

                G

        down from different trees

that the worms abandoned,

left to the soil

left to be feasted upon,

crushed into insentient mush,

pungent passions perishing. 

 

Let us decay:

watch as these bones

melt under pungent rivers

of soil and sand,

for we are merely

skeletons. Hard-hearted bones,

two scenes A

        W

           A

  Y from something

that lasts past an end…

this will not last

this will come to an end.

 

Will you bury me?

Tie me up on the mortician’s table

and suffocate. 

                                                                       Oxygen cries in collapsed lungs

                                                                                                                                                          dry tears begging F

                                                                     O

R you in

   varicose harmonies. 

 Let me sing a strangled swan song; 

 make a weeping from your name. 

 

The definition of the body

recoils before us;

stringent bacteria concede on this

half-gone flesh, hills of skin and

tissue rolling slowly, while this landscape

dies.

 

(2)

--and in showing a deliberate and obstinate desire to behave in a way that is

unreasonable or unacceptable and quite possible contrary to the accepted or expected

standard or practice:

            it c-r-a-w-l-s along your spine

            feelings slinking at the top

it all seems stressful

but I can see the individual bricks on the walls

d-e-m-a-r-c-a-t-e-d lines

and leaves are green

 

greening o-u-t in the graveyard

 

there’s the skim milk              that

sours on the t-i-p of my tongue

curdles in tangible fumes, t-h-i-c-k on my    /          your    /          our      /                  their                                                                                                                                                                                                                    lips

sordid defiance s-l-ick on my                                                                                      gums

 

grave

g-r-a-v-e-s

grave defamation

stone c-r-a-c-k-i-n-g on your teeth where the old

 

vile foul debased disreputable c-o-n-t-e-m-p-t--                            leaves dry themselves out

 

                --I know I was wanted so now I must spend the rest of my life proving I deserve-d it

 

tax                               the queers!

my debauchery is state sponsored

            the degenerate L-I-E-S

         contemptible wretched vapour rising

            Dionysus invokes guilt, it’s obsessively compulsive, there is disorder, there is the

disassociate unsavoury, the savour the s-a-v-i-o-u-r of our time and--

             in contrast I fully believe I like the part where I don’t have to look at their face-s

and I hug and I hold and I hold and I hold

Tighter every time because I always want to treasure our goodbyes this is far more important

than any simple inhale exhale yes sir no sir lady ma’am my liege and it goes and it says and

and

           I love you I love you I love you

and I wish I knew how to write prose poetry rather than make my prose poetic because I have

so much to say in so little time AND they always say the best poems are the shortest one,

where all the important things are said in sparse breaks and perfectly imperfect structured

verse alas everything is important to me and I prefer text to words and it all seems stressful

but I can count the individual bricks on the walls where the leaves are still green with their

       d-e-m-a-r-c-a-t-e-d lines—

 

 

(3)

 

want

transgression

sin of omission

ketamine

wrestle between the outrage

The multitudes of desire

Of wanting to be loved and to be liked

How to be pious when there is nothing to worship

Mould

Blue mould

Sky mould growing over the horizon line tattoo

 

 

 
Farrago's magazine cover - Edition Three 2024

EDITION THREE 2024 AVAILABLE NOW!

Read online