Most men maliciously disregard me.
My mind maliciously disrespects me.
Misfortunes make me dance magically.
I don’t think it happens on purpose.
Mad mirrors stand before these men.
Mad mirrors stand before my mind.
Mad mirrors create these misfortunes.
Misogyny can be mystic.
My mother makes remarks of a more mental man.
By man I mean men.
By men I mean mank...
Wednesday 7th September 2022 2:46 am
To the floor
For sick notes
Saturday 9th January 2021 11:47 am
I only want young, thin, pretty girls
to look my way.
I don't care if they have anything
intelligent to say.
I just want them to ooh and awe
at my game.
Of course I have no shame,
my past is to blame.
Yes, this dance could drive
the thinker insane.
So, leave with your dignity,
while I toss back another one,
and twirl my ring.
# # #
Thursday 12th September 2019 4:03 pm
I’m not your zebra.
I don’t want you to chase me
to show your devotion.
I’m not your lioness.
You don’t need to pursue me
across the plains
to demonstrate your loyalty.
You don’t need to dominate me
to prove your masculinity.
I don’t need you to need me.
I’m not your source,
I’m not your mother,
I’m not your bitch.
You don’t need to chip, chip
chip away, ...
Monday 23rd July 2018 2:41 pm
Next Years Model
She smiled a permanent beguiling smile
And welcomed me with open arms
I kissed her cold red lips
And stared deep into her black eyes
Ran my fingers over perfect curves
Licked her and prayed she wouldn’t rust
I felt the steady pulse of her beat
Charged to the max
Until her age
Caused her to drain away
More quickly than I wanted
And she ...
Saturday 15th July 2017 1:32 pm
sin came first
traced into tungsten ringed confinement
where a woman fluttered accomplished mumbles
offering a freeform montage of nailed harmonic and shoddily baked
reality whilst peeing through her lowcut tights as rudimentary
precaution against the weathered discharge of wearisome love
yet still she sports a fierce grin through the endless commitment
of shapeless corners a...
Sunday 6th April 2014 8:22 pm
along the length of a blue dusting lung busting puckered roof
and fingers the gaps where once there was glass
wire veined, designed to resist
a boot, a fist a flick of the wristy bone
trebuchet yet now carpeting this concrete nest
of surly youth in a crystal expression of boys
when they are bored
nowhere better then than this Park Drive smo...
Tuesday 3rd September 2013 9:37 pm
in letters three feet high
across the bridge
“KELLY MATTHEWS IS A WHORE”
the paint was dry
her sharp reply
in a deeper crimson shade
as double edged
as Kelly’s blade
exposed the lie
that gave offence
- and their careless
use of tense.
Monday 9th February 2009 11:08 pm