and now that the nursery
has burnt crisp on junkyard
nights we must pick sides,
reach through mist and
blood red scarves and pull
out the vertebrae of our
dog-limp marriage from
the abandoned salamander
skin that lies on the floor,
like a robe quickly flicked
from a shaking, sopping frame
by a quivering quim and a
welcoming cunt.
Excellent fare, Stu. Of all the names for sexual organs, quim must be the most splendid, and should be excused for any malpractice on that basis alone! It cannot be debased by alternative usage as an expletive. More quim, please.
oh and its all three. but thankfully lies as far from my marriage as a poem could.
cheers both. david, i have to admit i had to look up malcolm tucker and even worse it seems i have never seen the thick of it. i am addressing this as we speak via youtube and on demand.
Wow this is a fab poem. There are some great lines here Stu. 'Reach through mist and blood red scarves'
fantastic stuff.
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Stu Buck
Thu 14th Apr 2016 12:18
cheers ray. the word quim could never be over used in my opinion.