Each page of that good book
is kept pristine, misquoted only
at the most opportune times.
He keeps each shirt starched,
in perfect rows like polished armour.
And when questioned, he only ever
acknowledges their backs, as he dresses
up division with second hand logic.
his words falling like torn confetti,
that scrapes the ground like his witherd
reputation.
His voice drenches out others in sewage
filled waves, his false respect for opponents
slowly resurfaces. Given a yard he could
vomit a mile, given an enema, he could reside
in a match box.
About Jonathan Butcher:
Jonathan Butcher is a poet based in Sheffield, England. He has had work
appear in various print and online publications including: Popshot, Sick-Lit,
The Transnational, The Morning Star, Plastic Futures, Picaroon Poetry, Amaryllis
and others. His second chapbook 'Broken Slates' has been published by
Flutter Press
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Translating the Media Reaction to the Assassination of Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson By Garret Schuelke
WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU SERFS?! THIS IS NOT HOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO REACT TO THE MURDER OF ONE OF YOUR SUPERIORS! BRI...
-
Driving through New England, I notice small towns all have a cemetery crowded with tombstones, weathered and leaning into each other like ... -
Two Jacksons or Four sawbucks Up front—$40. No credit cards, no I.D.; Beyond, beneath, Battered neon lights The Blues Hotel Weathered time’s... -
Poking with a stick. Looking for the crevice that started everything. A vague meandering led to the science of destruction. Big budget nigh...
No comments:
Post a Comment