Saturday, December 2, 2017

twin decastich for hauf blind fucks on a glesga sofa

fat cunt

The fat cunt upstairs is limping again
through the early hours
a three-legged elephant locked in a trunk
psalms from Postman Pat
recited at the top of scorched lungs
he would go over the balcony as at the Somme
so entrenched is he in his night of the soul
and his doctor has spared him antidepressants
a sick note rubber stamped
on the flat screen rattling like an MG 08

butcher’s girl

I am hankering after your calves
a butcher hamstrung at the foot of his larder
the indecent swell above the ankle of one laced boot
those dimples sleeping behind each knee
I am smitten by the timing of your tide
that erratic flow inside the seam of your tights
girl’s shorts
I am gladly bludgeoned
a servant to your footsteps on the stair
a harvester of unspoiled fats, meat, marrow


jonder said...

I suppose it stands to reason that the butcher is a leg man. Nicely written, sir.

ib said...

I am a leg man But I am just as fond of rump. Thank you, jon.