Tussled hair, pinafore dress
Screamed authority
Head mistress, forced men
To confess their everlasting pity
For themselves and fainting soule.
No yes or please from you
A squeeze, knowing your tease
Would awaken Lazarus to retreat
To fields of masturbation, where
Roses droop in shame, wither.
Stood at my office orifice
Cave doors wide open
Lucky man, Im here to audit you.
Lucky? Only if you need another
Kramer versus Kramer.
Awkward brush of fingers
Glances, eye to eye (death-trap)
Conveying mute messages
Hidden behind the demeanour
Of Norman Bates heading for the shower.
Her fingers soaked my attention as sponge
Shaking goodbye; low cut blouse flailing.
Passing my window
Stilettoes tearing at pavement
Drawing heavily on cigarette
Lip gloss smouldering, blistering
Blowing smoke into Londonium automatons.
You were moulded by the earring of London bones:
Wet fish, sushi bars, neighbours unknown,
If the smug smog doesn’t get you
Then, by fuck, rhyming slang will kill you.
And so, oh you can guess the rest
Pride & Penetration—above my station.
Little Miss Perpendicular
Head at 45 as she kissed -
If sitting on broom handle.
Then one weekend, her twin
Sister must have escaped the attic.
Flange of foreplay pinned me to mattress
Library in City missing the Karma Sutra
Playboy mansion blushed to foundation.
What she never knew, hungover Sunday
Afternoons were my raison d’etre
Crackle from hearth backbeat to the
Contours of space and solitude
Separated, unified in tomes,
Pages of chapters, curling in silence
Made us almost human
Maybe the unthinkable was unfolding?
Your night frights, betrayed your calm
Assured presence in gibberish
Sign-language, stabbing The Sandman:
Mister Sandman, bring me a dream.
At Tate, all decorum & refined serenity
You spat at instalment, flock of phlegm
Dripping over broken glass & brick
Modern Art for the criminally insane.
Frying pans flying, monolith of tears
Chronophobia out of tune with two watches
Strapped to your wrists: if a cuckoo was
To poke their head from clock. Snapped.
Something rotten in the state of your heart.
If you kiss the blade enough
Cold steel will slip, cutting.
Stacy, the day you changed rules of
Engagement and merely fatally fled
Into accountant’s (undertaker) groin
Who owned a thirst for knowledge &
Leather elbow on tweed jacket.
All’s fair in love blah blah blah.
Found lipstick, skeletal pigments
As lost as the self portrait canvas
Of the artist dropped dead at his easel.
War paint of a battle silenced by final bullet.
What hurt most was not
Deceit lies contempt madness.
What hurt most was
Stealing my CDs & books -
The measuring vessels of my life -
Unpeeling little red songbooks
From charred embers of diary.
Dead disco - Dante dansette
Inferno blazing cold inside you.
You bad bad girl
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