Bored
like golf
sober
as owls
dead
like a fingerprint
this mantra.
Quarrelled
like scars
rabid
as a grand prix
psychotic
like typewriters,
this cabaret.
Paupers weight
empty pockets,
bring out the head
of Elvis.
Eager
as paper cuts
vulgar
like celluloid
cheap as gravy,
this gossip.
Warm
as handcuffs
crazy
like weevils
dizzy
as buddah,
this jazz.
Starving muscle
cradled bones,
bring out the head
of Elvis.
Weird
as blisters
lazy
like video
miserable
as cabbages,
this mourning.
Obssessed
like hedgehogs
drunk
as a pier
horny
like fat boys,
this zeitgeist.
Poor
like murder
bold
as pineapples
forever
like toffee
this celebrity
Junkies roam
a town of souls,
bring out the head
of Elvis...
Steven Francis poems 1999
Friday, 6 November 2009
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