St Fennawine Fianna In The Fever Temple

Howls are a' calling
the spear spangled alkies
from their kipper cold bible fog,
while machine gun mantras
baby tarantulas
and Spanish tanned ciders,
sell themselves
as cures for hangovers.

The tango pimps of Sodom and Gomorrah
give dancing cramps
to the light heeled holiday ladies
as porn bedraggled romeos
style themselves on videos
of twelve inch heroes.
Frostbitten Venus
woo the DJ's.

Tender smoked Chicago blues
serenade sulking pop stars
who wait in their binge cradles
while the devil coaxes Barbie to sin.
Praise sugared mud
for blushing bloods
as crocodiles flood
the Soho milk,
snapping at cold turkeys.

No more dead ends arrive
to peace out the gin wailing hooligans
after the buzz has hit.
New Orleans with its coffee casket jazz
is coming down to earth.
An old man's ebony lady
digs junked crazes,
king snake places
and sun lung'd faces.
Cry bullets
kick the F....

Welcome to the wingding,
as morning jaundice spills
from drug induced shrapnel wounds
this flu is for the taking.
Olive skinned
lushed up and loved,
there it goes
it sees and knows
the magic
behind the doped-bone...

@Steven Francis poems 1999