‘i came from another country, you know,
quite some time ago. i lived in the jungle’
yes.
‘i have been here so long, i feel i belong’
yes.
‘ they call me an immigrant’
said the bear, sadly.
sbm.
#russian
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Monthly Archives: February 2016
spoils of rar by Magi Gibson
you would have made a whore of her
the twelve year old girl
whose body you raped
in the name of the Caliphate
the twelve year old
with the tear-stained face you sold
for the price of a slap-up meal
and a flask of cheap wine
but really
you made a monster of yourself
and now you would make
a murderer of me
for if given a loaded gun
and a steady hand
how could I resist the urge
to satisfy my craving
to pump you full to pump you full
of silver bullets
deadly hot searing
first published in Graffiti in Red Lipstick
Dear over the road by Marie Lightman
Have you noticed me yet?
I move in to your steps as they caress
the pavement that you tread
on the way to the 45 bus.
Have you found what I left
in your brown leather bag,
something which wasn’t
there before, which if you
understand it belongs there now?
Have you closed your blinds?
Your form makes shadow puppets
for me as I watch your bed routine
tracing your outline with my finger on my knee.
Have you smelt me when I sit
behind on the bus wearing
eau de cologne, cooling to the skin,
distinct covering the musk that
is as close as your neck.
Have you remembered me yet?
I sat next to you once the driver
was new, a novices ride,
kept getting thrown to each other,
that’s when I knew as my leg touched your thigh.
I got off just behind, with enough distance to…
View original post 38 more words
honest work
i was gone all day, and my feet hurt.
i folded tee shirts, was confused with socks,
tried to be good, got it all wrong.
what did you do, bear.
‘i stayed here all day, i don’t want the money’
sbm.
#jungle
‘so i looked for images on clearing the jungle’ , said the bear
sadly.
‘it is where we live, then they mow it down, with
no regard, just bulldozers’
yes.
‘so where will i live now?’
i watched him curl up.
sbm.
deepest forests
you know how you can hear me,
when i am thinking. ‘yes that is because
i came from the forest, it is quiet there,
we can hear everything’
yes.
‘where have you been all day?’
here and there and felt the air
on my cheeks.
‘ so i hope the blanket of sadness
is lifting?’
yes. thank you bear.
sbm.
We Don’t Have Victories Anymore by Colin Dardis
A found poem based on the transcript of Donald Trump‘s Presidential Campaign Announcement on June 16th, 2015
We don’t have victories anymore.
They kill us.
I beat China all the time.
All the time.
When did we beat Japan at anything?
They beat us all the time.
When do we beat Mexico at the border?
They’re killing us.
A group of people,
a nation that truly has no clue.
They don’t know what they’re doing.
They don’t know what they’re doing.
Obamacare: you have to be hit by a tractor,
literally, a tractor, to use it.
When was the last time you heard China is killing us?
They’re killing us.
I don’t care.
I’m really rich.
Somebody said, “Oh, that’s crass.”
It’s not crass.
“Please reconsider.”
No.
We’re dying. We’re dying.
We need money.
Thank you, darlin’.
I think I’m actually a very nice person.
I’m really proud…
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Poems from ‘skins’ by Reuben Woolley
#backbedroom
it is a long time since the sun shone in long and low
like that, says the bear.
does this mean it is spring now? it is such a pretty
room.
yellow.
sbm.
Jeremy Corbyn’s Suit by Antony Owen
“Put on a proper suit, do up your tie and sing the national anthem”
David Cameron
Maybe I should wear a proper suit and act properly in Savile Row as they make the tender cuts. Maybe they could measure me by red tape from groin to collar and suggest I go for the slightly soiled blue suit on offer modelled by the faceless dummy far removed from limbless mannequins shoved to the back where no one will see. Maybe I should go to Oxfam in Mayfair and buy a decent blazer yellowed under the arms from a decent fellow nervous as he passed a swarm of probable migrants looking for their country in alleyways and skinny dog lick puddles selling voodoo and big issue.
Maybe I should do my black tie into a knot for the black hat Doctor Akbar wore on graduation day whose smile is in a cardboard…
View original post 200 more words
reubenwoolley 