Belle

Ring a ring o’ roses

A pocket full of posies

Atishoo, atishoo

They all fall down



I came down here to sit, this morning, to de-centre,

Chill, hung-over and dry, in our little cove

In amongst the lice, slugs, crawlies and moss

When it poured in they swarmed

“Hey fellas!” My cold is your warmth



Spats of rain then took to battering my world

In an almost indiscernible stream

I stepped outside delirious, began to get clean

Soonafter I crashed back to earth and fell into dream



Last night, you see, it all kicked off,

First we drained the poison chalice,

So we were drunk

Her, and me- never the hunk,

We mingled, innocent, virginal, ethereal!

Like angels tend to do

When the day decided to dawn, I searched for the shoes



In the closet; coats, shirts, a Hoover, gloves, adultery,

Trousers and ties,

Oblivious, tit! It was all just a lie

I scampered then, away from the scene

She was a player, and not on my team



Im sure you know the feeling, don’t you?

The Burning drips of salty ache and silent, slow, snowballing decadence

The belly creeping up the gullet,

The long, veiny, wet, gargantuan prick of an elephant prompting puke, puss, blood,

Clogging the oesophagus, plugging the voice

You know. Don’t you?



So the other day they sent me here, this is the East Wing by the way,

“Sir your constant trepidation overpowers your ability to reason!”

They know nothing of visceral convulsion

But I keep trying to please ‘em



I hope one day she sees me, dead,

And inner stimuli fill her with dread,

That’s right, ill sit there all burnished and brazen

An incandescent ivory bone bag- looking amazing



Perhaps she’ll serenade me with one final,

Mundane epitaph,

For misconcepted monogamy,

“I’m having a bastard, its name’ll be Mark,

8 months cooked and still missing a heart,

He's just like you- with a sparkling life,

But have this! Ha!

The lover of him WILL be his wife”



I’m not religious, but know of heaven and hell,

It kills me, Mum, to know the latter was Belle.