Cinquain

I flush
the fish away
she beats a kettle drum
the children watch the funeral rites
struck dumb

Love is a weird old Church near Corwen where All is Forgiven

even in real life i won't not now
or i will try not to
you owl
fuck in the tree
i gonna hoot too like more
mad than you
i won't stand here sayin no hoo hoo
that ain't how
ya hoot

make me a owl now
ya fuckoo

.

hexenoic acid

I was in my other self my bad self
in the very stink and reek and altercation of it
and she recognised this of course
I did too but not being this self
it felt legitimated and righteous
as any other madness
it reeked off me and she reacted
as someone would react to a huge wild goat
that suddenly materialised in their car
and grabbed the wheel
sticking its heavy hoof
on the accelerator, cackling and spraying
I woke up in jail, beaten up
just being left to materialise back into
the driver's seat
it stank it reeked it felt like
one inhabited the skin of many goats
you fuck, I thought, not really even knowing
which goat
or whose wheel
or whether this was that road
or the other road, the fucking
goat road upon which
so often we cackle
she left me a note saying I love you
goatface and it made me cry
like a goat heading for a ditch
in a stolen car

.