May 2017 Collage poem
Gunpowder walk around, a spark was sobbing
Underneath secrets hopping alongside humans
Inbetween trees weeping in regret
Wet willy, slippering down the slope. Pointing at
Your directionless forehead. Hop aboard the bumpy ride.
Wear a helmet. Your tongue is like a whip... but why!
Tip of the tonge. Sharp or soft
A host of feminist vegans
Lie in a pool of his own conceit
A black swan glides past the fascists naked in the head
Others are left to count the cost
Clip the garden, slash the growth
What do I know? My ideas and values,
Drag across a muddied floor.
The night is full of death and sex and taxis
I like all these photos
But I'd prefer painted pictures.