scissors cut paper
sanskrit lines on flesh
penetrate the hollow space
you burst like a balloon
but do not take communion
candles made from marrow fat
blazing birthday cake years
crack and melt the icing age
dark fruit beneath the surface
some pun about under-currants
as subtle as cooking sherry
there is a point in being serious
or at least a cutting edge
stone breaks scissors
seven points of articulation
realistic gun gripping hands
assassins in the nursery
flung out with your toys
swords drawn on street corners
scabbards sketched in history lessons
flags on half mast trousers
marching to a sampled drum
this is not a checklist
bullet points confirm a prejudice
as if politic to lie
on a page so neat and white
paper wraps stone
weigh up each broken window
against the concept of a burning cross
over the hiss of vinyl
smell the piss on summer lawns
reclaim nigger as your name
re-enact 'Love Thy Neighbour'
screw their daughter up the arse
be done with integration
you have your own manifesto
black ink on black paper
some of my best friends are writers
and I respect their culture
Comments
Sooz006 | February 20, 2008 - 15:57
This is one of those that sort of skims past on first read, but with every read you get more from it. I suppose I'm just enough of a poet to realise that this is 'good' poetry and just the notch above most of the stuff that's posted. Well done.