Wednesday, March 25, 2009

fullup lurkin count her fits

violence can be a gentle thing only
the soft wind that blows us apart

a refusal of the next move
over coffee or wine so casually
it doesn't take much
to leave us lurching

only our last resort now
will keep us gulping
winning the lottery finding love
turning to crime writing a book about it
committing murder or suicide
screwing down the wheel with heavy ropes

look always on the skyline
that damned tanker coming hard
hanging men as shrouds
flying invisible ensigns

already they are throwing overboard
the live horses
make room in the belly
for us to lie
unsinging our long creak


Anonymous said...

ha ha I've finally got the title

Steve said...

Yeah, was only having a larf... Should have counterfeited it better, but got carried away.