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Billionaires

I hooked onto the face of a psychopath executing flagellation
ate his lobster raw
and its eyes for his eyes
his damp face from my white meat spit
elastic banded claws dropped on embroidered brogues
in Monaco gamblers we trust
rise over here and I’ll hammer you

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seconds away

Don’t think
Take it
Blithe
Legal Aid and alcohol

*(Copyright is mine. Please contact me if you want to use or perform any of my poems.)

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Beat Poemcontemporary poetryexperimental poetrypoempoetry

Billionaires

I hooked onto the face of a psychopath executing flagellation
ate his lobster raw
and its eyes for his eyes
his damp face from my white meat spit
elastic banded claws dropped on embroidered brogues
in Monaco gamblers we trust
rise over here and I’ll hammer you

*(Copyright is mine. Please contact me if you want to use or perform any of my poems.)

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Beat Poemcontemporary poetrypoempoetry

Free Pass

Renegade living, after the Vietnamese boat-boy was beaten, after motorcyclist came looking, after steel toe-capped boots and a hammer threat, after a nearly ended dad by caged bird
Forty miles from the sea he shouted about a broken car window handle, never onto manipulations or abortions
Too tight squeezes later, tax man and his vice girl with the lost dog lie
By nervous accident, same place, f...

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90% polyester

Players
Romeos
still twentieth century visits
Camp Majesty
bending tungsten
satin sash title fighter hooks
smoking green grass burners
uniting tight-fitting lap-sitting women
industrial tribunal metal pin tattoo brainwashed art  
money dragging gifted arm
Planet

*(Copyright is mine. Please contact me if you want to use or perform any of my poems.)

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Beat PoemBeat Poetrycontemporary poetryLyrics. Poetrypoempoetry

Glasgow bolt on

Crinkle cut oven Glasgow
wet ozone
dark brown film lid on red and grey mortar
scaffold lips step by public print art diversity
second hand justice buses
Celtic with Rangers feet dancing to van chimes.

*(Copyright is mine. Please contact me if you want to use or perform any of my poems.)

 

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Beat Poemcontemporary poetrypoempoetry

Smell Filthy

Saw Sondheim’s ‘Fruit Juice of the Soul’
actor’s encore dip, tips, left and right and out to women like this, to men like that, the crimes of The Broadway Ripper
odd height couples in their Manhattan towers, I stored myself for a while, then star backed, from walking a three-week cold saunter
‘Where did he walk from?’
That was him, from LA, now fed-up in Western rent, getting sun’s burn, red a...

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Waiting In Brooklyn

Balancing my brains with bourbon in some back-ally Brooklyn bar
nighthawks that had lost hope looking for the diner, perched in a meticulous row like tin ducks on a crooked shooting gallery on Coney Island

The fella to my right was coyly flirting with a glass of miller draft, his hands embraced around but not to tight, so that it didn’t slip through his fingersas the love of a good woman once ...

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