I am lying with my pits upwards
I am drowning in this pit, downwards
I am so fine, lick that
I am so right, taste gravel
I am inside your prayers
I am sellotaped under your prayer mat
I am shedding lambswool clothing
I am (b)eating defenceless animals
I am mutually masturbating with shadows
I am making a list and checking it twice
I am hammering a nail in your round robin
I am lying in this pit, downwards
I am opening my pits, outwards
If I've told you once
I've told you a thousand times
Please stop eating fresh babies
And molesting my elderly relatives
In bus shelters
You have far too many
eyes in your head
You have far too few
chips on your shoulder
You have one too
many hairs on your scalp
You have one less
ventricle in your heart
I eat pieces of you
To spit into your mouth
With longing, with disgust
I wait for you to grow back
I dip in the water to
scoop up your gristle
I swallow your flesh
Even though I am full
I sicken
You sicken
nimble nimble stamp spay!
usable wary filth left!
wax finis rang.
pastor bran bikini finis?
sanies pent.
etcher fart enemy cynic!
damsel limbo sown far.
vox linger recite.
yellow gift nopal.
lotah teens scanty denary!
lordly filly limbo.
usable stamp dot digger.
wary donate enemy delete.
fealty damsel lordly dot!
lotah byword teens molar.
cynic giaour furfur.
midget recite hamlet.
nopal spay.
paraph cynic cod trite?
shaver lucky sanies creamy?
nimble morion stamp rang.
digger bran yellow paraph?
need fart.
runt morion racing denary?
lunacy giaour graph.
jaunty noil plasma.
scanty grew gig acacia.
digger trite.
tirade fealty dam recite?
tirade enter byre barium.
scout creamy sown.
lucky solid hamlet leaves!
juror typhus vox.
limbo far orange.
pent stamp usable pent!
acacia cynic noil lucky!
shaver solid runt diaper!
leaves bran far bran!
muddy typhus.
recite nude donate disk?
hamlet enemy furfur hamlet?
drum dot left filly?
toils byre shaver nude.
recite sown.
leaves leaves forgo jaunty.
denary diaper etcher melee!
stamp shaver.
hamlet assert etcher spay?
napoo stamp assert leaves?
spay gig tizzy.
assert rang.
denary lordly.
leer recite lucky tirade!
creamy nopal linger barium?
wary trite delete limbo!
sanies denary advise.
runt nopal juror.
disk stamp scout toils.
sanies enter bracer solid.
bran damsel paraph scout?
fart furfur disk morion.
lordly scout shaver.
fart paraph wax finis!
leaves lordly.
fealty advise.
juror finis drum bumpy.
etcher gleam toils kersey!
midget assert usable raging.
nude dam need castor!
asthma wax forgo limbo!
dam pub graph.
fealty cod leer cod!
tirade nimble rang.
cod recite.
juror delete cynic.
spay finis.
shaver gig drum pub?
leaves leer melee need?
wary byword creamy.
yellow enter.
wary fealty juror napoo!
typhus assert left.
scanty juror jaunty shaver?
lucky pent kersey solid!
etcher dot byre.
nude limbo wary hamlet!
etcher filly byword.
usable pastor enemy sown!
wary lunacy sown.
lunacy bumpy graph solid.
forgo bran bran.
creamy bikini teens acacia!
digger gleam cod zeal.
damsel creamy left trite?
filly midget.
rang juror juror gleam!
* This is not my poem. These are the words of Camille - whoever she is - from the spam email she sent me this morning. Reading it, I discovered that it was the greatest work of surrealist poetry ever.**
** This may be open to debate.
I am 'dying'
No, really
I am 'dying'
I'm exhausted
And 'spent'
I have grown old
Overindulgence
And overuse
Have 'withered' me
I no longer know
Whether I am here
For 'emphasis'
Or for 'irony'
To make a 'point'
Can you help me?
I am 'fading' fast
My bunny ears are
Wilting, even 'drooping'
This is it
This is 'the end'
Goodbye, 'cruel' world
'Goodbye'
(And in my last breath
I will whisper to you
That I feel 'neutral'
About this poem)
Could I do that?
I could do that
Oh, I couldn't do that
Or maybe I could
I could do that if pushed
If someone was threatening
Me with disembowelment
Using a big fuck-off knife
Or a teaspoon
I would so do that
I would, I would, I could
I'd have to hold my nose
And squeeze my eyes shut
But I could do it
I could do that
I could do you
I would do you
I should do you
I will do you
In the dark
In the night
In the heart
In the neck
With?
With
Without?
Without
And with
Yes
With
With
My little nephew
Has had a poem published
I'm delighted and
As his proud uncle, I hope
He survives his next birthday
When you've lost your voice
You smell no reason
Beat your hollow chest
Until the froth splurges
Up your clammy neck
And out onto wood surfaces
Faculty: going
When you've lost your eyes
You still touch yourself
Beat your flaccid member
Until the froth splurges
Up your grimy veins
And out onto wasteful night
Faculty: going
When you've lost your ears
You still sense presence
Beat your throbbing head
Until the blood congeals
Up into your soiled pores
And you forget how to breathe
Faculty: gone
He peels the onion light
To drench it over the
Smooth and smoothly fucking
Bodies of evidence
They mate in elongated vowels
Copulate to the slowest of motions
Watched by a chicken liver girl
Skinning her tangerine
I have a disadvantage in not
Speaking a second language
Their orgasm pales into
Sans serif insignificance
The television gives up ghosts
The screen is snowbound
The chicken liver girl
Dribbles juice down her chin
End corporal punishment now, they cry
Change the child's behaviour
By hanging it from a window ledge
To show it the error of your ways
End capital punishment here, they shout
Replace it with a kinder, gentler
Warm-hearted fist to each tender face
We'll teach them a thing or two
End their punishment here, they beseech
With the victim's head resting
In the curve of your still, even lap
Lean forward, kiss their breath to sleep
End your punishment here, you ask
Standing clothed in bleeding shades
Wringing each drop of forced sincerity clean
Into the six-foot pit, lined with love
When you clasp your hands
Over your mouth, and hold
Your eyes raped open
Roped, ripped, rapt
Whichever, be sure to
Distort your mouth in fear
For me, sweetheart
Screw up your guts in knots
For me, lover
Twist your knife in tissue
For me, sourmouth
Hammer your nails in bone
For me, loather
Fingers formed, grip tighter
Don't let light cross your face
No betrayal in your gaze
Not a smile of recognition
Just delicate vomit
Into your skinny
Cupped flesh
Sliding down
Your neck
Your stomach acid
Smothers this moment
On your knees, you
Cry for black water
My hands pull your hair
Into my fist as you pray
And I pray and you pray
And I hold and you erupt
Come morning
Your eyes
Compete with
Your skin
For failure
I am going to allow you
To write a poem now
I am being allowed to write a poem
It seems we are making progress
As long as you behave yourself
No funny business, funny boy
No funny business, no
I'll be a good boy, not a funny one
I'm only letting you write a poem
Because otherwise you might be missed
You think? You really think I might be missed?
I'm sure you're wrong; you're far too kind
But I missed you, didn't I?
Which is why I came and took you
So what can I write? What can I say?
What can I put in my poem? Please?
You can say that you have gone away
But that you are having a lovely time
I have gone away, but I am having
A lovely time here in ...
No, none of that, you naughty boy
No names or places. Or else, or else ...
I am having a lovely time, really and truly
I am most definitely not being kept in a cellar
Good. Yes. Good. That's good
You are not being kept against your will, are you?
I am not being kept against my will, and
I am allowed to type each day between midday and one
I don't want to stop your creativity
As long as the poems are all about me
Yes, you encourage my creativity
As long as the poems are all about you
Which they are, of course
Which they are, of course
All of your poems are about me, aren't they?
All of them, all of my poems are about you
Check out my wang
I know rude words!
Rude words! Rude words!
Look! I have written
The word WILLY!
On the kitchen wall!
In blunt crayon!
And I have written
Rude words for girly bits!
In felt tip pen on
My sister's forehead!
Mommy, I am so clever
I am so clever, aren't I?
Can I have a cookie?
A cookie, Mommy?
Can I? Can I? Can I?
Wang! Wang! Wang! Wang!
Willy! Willy! Willy! Willy!
Girly bits! Girly bits! Girly bits!
I am 37 years old
Going on four or five
This is some mid-life crisis
To fasten around our necks
We wear these heavy chains with pride
Shall we cut our losses, bleed our selves
Locate our veins and face the sun
Here, gaze into this flaming round
I'll stand behind, linking lengths
In the burn of shining cityscapes
Swimming in our empty heads
Carry my dust in your silver locket
A hair, a nail, even a slither of skin
Open me in the birth of night
Slide the hair across your tongue
Push the nail into your warm lips
Place the skin between your breasts
Then wait until the answers come
Hold on until the questions cease
There are beatings abroad in the streets tonight
And kickings, and nuttings, and stabbings, and more
Knuckle-headed oaf against knuckle-headed oaf
Idiot on idiot, drunken bint slapping drunken bint
Outside the kebab shop, lairy wolves gobble lamb
Eyeing the competition like no-brained monsters
"Are you lookin' at my bird, you dirty facker?"
"Why don't you come here and say that, you cunt?"
The ritual: heads down, no nonsense charging
Dragging their dumb girths, the lumbering beasts
Belch seventeen pints into the doner-scented night
As they size each other up for a right good pasting
Kebabs onto concrete, thrown at the prissy feet of
Adoring white-stilettoed dolly birds, mini-skirted
To the point of no lewd imagination required
Freezing their tits off in the name of the skin game
"Hit him, Dwayne! Fackin' hit him! Knock him dahn!
He was starin' at my arse! He touched it! My arse!
That's your arse, Dwayne! Your fackin' arse!
Give him what for, lover. Give him bleedin' what for!"
"He was not! My Dave does not fancy yours!
Do you, Dave? Do you? Tell 'er, Dave! Tell 'er!
You're a bony slag, Denise! A bony fackin' slag!
Would be like humpin' a bleedin' bag of spanners!"
And so cat fight takes on git fight takes on
Helpless pubbers and E'd-up good time clubbers
The little that passes for brains gets splattered
Amongst the remains of slippery mutton stench
The men's fists are limp and useless, tanked up
On gassy lager, whisky chasers, roasted peanuts
They leave it to head-butting, groping, grunting
Near homoerotic, save for kicking and spitting
See the neanderthals in their natural environment
We marvel as evolution slides back to the caves
Words now too much for their addled constitutions
All thought thrown out for the dull thud of foreheads
"He's got a blade, Dave! He's got a bloody blade!"
The chaos stops short with a sickening squelch
As sharp Sheffield steel meets Fred Perry shirt
Meets hairy beer belly meets thick-set thug heart
Bring blues and twos and sirens if you must
Though sense would say leave the tableau there
With tottering totty knelt and cradling shaven head
As the victorious gorilla beats his chest in male pride
How I love the sound of violence on a sick summer night
Spewing out of gutters, rising up from greasy spoons
Yeah, so there's one dead moron, another behind bars
But it's a price worth paying for a little peace and quiet
I whispered at dawn that you're beautiful
It bears repeating here, mouthing the words
As day turned darker, I saw the light
The sky collapsed, shrouding my brutality
Sat side by side in this pale moonlight
Our hillside overlooks the seamy streets
Your hair, my love, is as golden as ever
Even as viscous blood thickens its strands
May I turn your head to gaze in your eyes?
Your always dead eyes, still gone, vanished
Caress your mouth, your parted lips, expectant
Waiting for an exhalation, giving me a sign
You were cold towards me, so cold, and so
You become colder still, colder still, into ice
Your perfect legs remain unflinching to my touch
Breaking them to carry will surely break me too
I promised to take you far from here, oftentimes
I'll take you even further, I swear on your grave
Your skin is not what it once was, not sweet
Your face that fell has dropped through the floor
Your heart, it no longer beats for me
Your heart, it no longer beats at all
Your life curdles round the kitchen knife
The handle sucked up by your sunken soul
Swooping and scratched
Distorted and debauched
Venus descends
In her faked furs
Figures appalled in black
Await her icebound arrival
Venus is here
Newly purged
She is sick of the sleaze
She's a social disease
Venus won't take
Your sick venom
Takes to the footlights
Like some fuck to water
Venus is not
Your sweet darling
She cuts and she bites
She strains to be heard
Venus goes quiet
Knocked down, stood up
If you brighten these corners
To find me sat, cross-legged, bowed
Hands raised in supplication
I'll be praying to every which way
I can find a likely idol to worship
Facing north into the hard frost
Mine eyes see only the whites of yours
Heading east, I watch the sun
Rising above you to christen and crown
Turning west, I watch it descend
Into the map of skin spread out before me
Gazing south, I see night come falling
Sucked down into your open mouth
Spirits such as these are tangible
They exist, breathing flames to anoint
When I kneel in the direction of heaven
And it answers by beating my heart
Does this mean you believe?
The pause asks, pregnant and pointed
I believe in nothing but what I touch
I respond, and my fingers stretch to feel
The slight sum total of experience
That is something of anything, of all
Of everything it could be, of nothing
Please publish my words
If you do, I'll give out one
Sexual favour
If you don't, I'll give out more
This is not an idle threat
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