Roughgh Rhymymes

Stalking Filler - Post-Apocaloptop Christmas Poems

Primate Change

With Apologies to WCW

A girl in a field and a boy up a tree. Watching, dancing, watching. Two boys. Three boys. A city of boys. Watching. But only one girl - like a road out of town.

A boy in the ocean and a girl on the beach. Swimming, laughing, swimming. Two girls. Three girls. A party of girls. Laughing. But only one boy - (a tiny baby turtle hatches from an egg in the sand).

Botanic-Botonic

1.

winter garden

a zigzag
trail to the

lingam bush


2.

hung

from a

stalk of

maidenhair


3.

wet leaves wedged in the vegetable beds


4.

chamomile
&
wild marjoram

zigzag zen


5.

alfalfant

Holiday

high
hill
home:

A patch of

ocean and a

breath for a

breeze.

Charisma

blood

blot!

port
pours
porous

;

spot

blurt!

pair
up
peer
out
part-
ake

Smoke Cut Up

Streams of the glen existing in stillness, get up and jam the door - in the body, altering perception, a ganja fire through leaf and bush; the mind and the firelight, or the drums and light in space, tempting me with fantasies: where the ego is, accompany the smoke. I feel the trees unravelling, the sheen and shine behind the night; void soft with fancies; mountain lands and joy. And soon, dark pearl in the soul, abandon restraint and all humility singing; take praise and adoration, law breaker, dope fiend. My bedroom is the composer of the galaxies, an interior universe switched off, candles lit. I am merely now of angels, a pile of ladies, my loins flicked through for ascent.

Reel Fur Ma Faither

Channelling - A Cut-Up Poem

Two girls stood apart. Both of them streets and glowing lamplight. One of them I liked brimming sound and gathering delight. She wore purple heavy make-up; the other rub and bounce of flesh – carried downhill in eyes. I turned to her with life, charged and channelling in the tree with desire. I turned away. I did with fire and glowing youths, life leaping all an answer, like a curious child. I knew burn of evening. I was looking for alcoholic splendour – glimmer wouldn’t find it lying. We lay on the floor, a taxi confused by distance. Sound echoed in the woods looking at me. A ball of voices burst through was more natural, but with seductive dark around. The woods were radiant, an opportunity to sing silver buckled boots. The girls wore black image of life. We were the flames, given their souls to evening.

The Vandals

United Nations of Pwoermds

Mexicat

Germind

Frensh

Eqyptian

Chinest

Spaniiche

Greeq

Aquadorean

Americalm

Scanadanavian

Sqots

Breaking the Waves

w;w;w;w;w;
w;w;w;w;w;
w;w;w;w;w;

Space Minimalism

Trip't,

Kui