Our Sarah has got a new chap

Called Jesus, (lives in t’ sky an’ all that):

Yes, she’s got religion,

Plays a born-again Virgin

In Reform’s Nativity an’ all that.

Yes, Christians, says Sarah, are good,

But Muzzies ain’t welcome in her ‘hood:

She’s cool shillin’ for Putin,

With our NHS’s lootin’,

An’ wi’ t’ sewage that the UK’s a-floodin’.

But I reckon our Sara...

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Faith is fear with wings

It soars high as my breath quickens

As eggshells tuck safely into my shins 

As I kneel, seeking recompense 

I make peace with convenient fantasies

Like a film reel, unspooling per my instructions

Till I inevitably slump into my hypocrisy 

I am a heathen without the conviction

A gold rush of beliefs

Cheapened by my constant negotiations 

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They came

from out of nowhere

this morning,

before I rose,

half alseep,

for some reason,

hazy memories

of my sixteen-year-old

or thereabouts self

swam through

my sleep-slow mind

and suddenly,

focused on his face,

I remembered

his wiry hair,

clear as a bell,

I remembered his face,

his angry, waspish

bespectacled face.

I hadn’t properl...

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Through the debris and denial,

Through the scalps and the spoils,

Through the hunger for roadkill,

Through the ravaging of space,

Through the emptiness,

The huddled, the distress,

The voice is strangely silent.

You’d think it would say something,

But no, not a peep.

Its acolytes are there, of course,

Busy working the room,

Eyeing up the main chance,

Checkin...

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“butterflies can’t see their own wings”

my wings were unique, folded and geometric

i felt proud, never hid them like a secret

i was called brave

              ↳”i’d want to die if i were you”

i pulled my antennas over my eyes

i naively accepted compliments at face value (i belonged)

when it came time to fly, i could only flutter

that’s all my wings could do (i was okay with...

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