Monday, 1 February 2016

Knotted Castle




I made friends with a tooth,
for he was alone,
had lost a friend,
needed an embrace
For there are deserts
as well as canyons in our
mouths.

We are the Ossuary People, 
Inlaid with abalone
bone brigands with

snaffled desires
poached in vinegar
and lusting after tardy  
secular saints
full of joyous horror

Heart, flag and cross, 
God preserve us
endear us & enjoin us
In a waxen-blood franchise

Are people mad enough 
to call themselves 
this or the other ?
Reiterating, reconfirming
driving the knives deeper 

I must believe myself for 
I am not lonely,
but a whole.



idyllic remains by a river, 
Gin soaked beauty 
shimmering like grey vanity
over early autumnal
domicile drivel In extended and
expansive bliss.

Candle light and rain,
looking for twilight in vain
shining across the
short-cut lawns 
dusky cadences 
long & glorious 
cast out like furnace coal 
by the dragging afternoon.

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