The lovers

I fight the stairs clutching jeans and water

Whilst she sobs

Behind me


It is Sunday

Just after



We go out

Drink ourselves stupid

Eat what’s left at whatever’s still open


Then we go home

To make war


Her tongue

Is vicious



Is worse


And it will rage until sleep smothers us


But when the grunting of one

Awakens the other

We will be entwined

Glued together like a cheap souvenir


Then I or she will peel away

Tread carefully back with

Two hot mugs


I believe love and fury to be our strength

And passion


What I’m saying

Is life will get dirty

It will inflame the soul

It will steer you toward chaos 


And when it accelerates

Foot down

Into a ferocious



It’s how you survive the crash

◄ Not a single tulip

Makeover ►


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Harry O'Neill

Tue 10th May 2016 20:51

The spacing in this `works`

At first I thought it would work just as well without that first stanza, then realized the stanza`s function in placing the overall situation.

The penultimate two stanzas `universalize` it neatly and
the final line (after the foregoing) is very apt.

Mike`s style strikes me as a place where an attenuated kind of flash fiction meets up with free-style poetic.

It certainly grabs the attention.

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Anthony Emmerson

Tue 10th May 2016 13:15

Cracking words; beautifully yet painfully assembled. A poem to wallow in.

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Nicola Beckett

Mon 11th Apr 2016 22:53


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alan barlow

Sun 10th Apr 2016 17:12

Pretty much a perfect encapsulation of partnership well written I think, suffice to say I love this thankyou for creating and sharing this piece

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Peter knaggs

Fri 8th Apr 2016 14:05

Poem of the week!!!

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Fri 8th Apr 2016 11:56

Hi Mike, loved this. Well written and strong finish. T.

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