Antidepressant Sex Toy
The face
of Robert F. Kennedy
In the
hotel lobby,
Stitched
and botoxed,
Pole dancing
death,
Peter
Kurten in lingerie
Performing
a contorted ballet on
The
boulevards of vacuous persons.
Dim lit
streetlight pussy
Speaking
in air raid siren linguistics,
SS
spastics
Looking
up nude celebrities
With
Bela Lugosi eyes, undead.
Hungry hand
for hammer,
A blow
to the head,
Sleaze
skin shed
In an
apparatus of transparent lines
Like
bodies covered in lime after
The
infiltration of Oradour-sur-Glane,
The orgy
tears of the Seine
Lubricates
the face of Janus,
The
make-up smudged
On a
deflowered trans.
Bipolar-pre-op-transient
Inviting
chaos into the space
Of a
savage landscape without time
Or
construct.
I want
to see her strip
On the
pile of shoes and household bills,
I want
to see her cavort with the pickled jars
That
contains John Wayne Gacy’s brains,
Flicking
the vein,
Summoning
the needle
To the
impervious smiles of lacerations;
A
canvas, a Rorschach of child abuse,
Fantasies
of flesh, nameless flesh,
Obtuse.
Awake in
foul,
Vermin
recluse in the gap of wound,
Salivated
by cum-riddled fingers
Stuck to
childhood photos from a lost album.
Neon
circumcision,
Ejaculate
exorcism,
Dice the
penis into segments,
Deliver
it with acid
Beyond
the jaw of a delinquent,
Amidst
the hot barrel of a disillusioned insurgent,
Abscess
tooth on vagina,
Blood
soaked alleyway sore,
Disenfranchised,
ignored whore,
Artistic
nude on the recliner
Before
an audience
Of sex
traffickers eating aortas,
Cash and
cheques branded cheeks
Of anal
sex sheiks.
Car
lights making quadruple shadow legs,
Empty glacier
air,
Cigarette
smoke stained corners,
Broken
language in the ether,
Brake
light sniggers,
Curb
crawling dwellers
Before
Albert Pierrepoint fetishists
For
beginners.
Prostate
exam
On an
abandoned estate,
Sex
amidst litter,
Billboards
advertising defecation
And
other laxative based products
Gracefully
depicted with the torso
Of a
toned man, gutted,
Entrails
like waste in the eye
Of an
absent grave.
Graffiti
on the inner walls of a urethra;
Testicular
violence in urban refuse,
Carnal
skanks in cancer malaise,
Slit
throat labia dismay,
Capital
punishments during deep throat,
Masturbate
upon the fray
Of norms
and values,
Bathe in
the cascade of
Cold war
cunt
Whilst
reciting Kant.
Dear
obsequious victim
Of
nothing…
Be my valentine,
Be my fever,
Be my decaying bunker,
Be my fuck buddy,
Be my war memorial,
Be my syphilitic dandy,
Be my rapist,
Be my liar,
Be my murderer,
Be my local drunk,
Be my inner fire,
Be my own cock
In the fervent utopia
Of my own demise
And show me your heart,
Denude,
Revoltingly naked
In the shape of a swastika,
In the shape of buggery,
In the shape of Guernica,
In the shape of a massacre.
Yours
truly,
Civilisation.
Give Me Sedatives and Underground
Pornography
Lipstick stain, the illicit profane, elicit the decay
from the walls of dangling and curled wallpaper, malnourished figures in foetal
positions stare piercingly unto darkness as if they understand its reflection.
Soiled corners, defecation for décor, cheap Polaroid pictures of nameless
children, damp pages of pornography illuminating putrid vessels of nude cores,
salivating over silicon absurdities, this cesspit junction can’t function
without the presence of dysfunction…the cocaine, the slags, the white and green
bags, the sniff, the crack, the seams leaking with incongruity…victims are
inane, obsequious blurs of ignorance that negate any sense of adversity,
they’re just symbolic of their own products, held down by possessions and
materials governed by a rule that has metastasized to rule without awareness.
Motorway veins cascade in and out, in and out, stabbing, penetrating, pulsating
organisms that rupture the crack filled ribcages of the forgotten…sex work
gulag girls, the disposable toys of rent boys, renting, the hiring of flesh –
slow suicide; painless at first, fatal fast like Van Gogh’s ear lobe, the
screeching of trains, sparks of metal rain into the gutters that smells of
tears and stale urine, cigarette stubs and stolen purses, profanity and insensitive
curses…full moon glow on crack bloated faces, scars of inanity, scars of
places, killing hope, hope killing in fake sunrise and amoral insanity.
Johns
Veal
veins within
Vaccinated
voids voluptuously dance
From the
pores of the soil of Sodom,
Incessantly
insipid is
The
rapacious rapture of
Wanton
whore sin.
Car
light starlets
Disenfranchised
Unto the
mire of uncouth pith,
Insatiate
concrete roamers
Nocturnally
nourished by
The
salacious sores upon their forearm,
The
feeding of holes;
One of
which incites numbness,
The
other,
Abject
shame.
Semen.
Drugs. Alcohol.
A
trinity of defilement
Or a
trichotomy of profligate ideals?
Their
sign of the cross
Before a
hard-on and a hit,
A
bleeding lip,
A
deflowered clit
Perforated
by a lonely married man
With the
blood of his wife on his fists.
Some are
just scared shitless,
Pre-ejaculate
misfits
With
floppy pricks
After a
gallon of lager
That
tastes like fetishists’ piss.
Hyena
prowls
With
lascivious scowls
Under
halogen discordance
In
accordance to the motorcades
Of
hearses filled with potential johns
Wanting
blowjobs and handjobs
Off
heroin-pallid rejected blondes.
The cold
spike of night,
The fear
of existing treads
With
every carnal plight.
The
thigh high boots
And moth
bitten fur coats
Wolf
whistle that wretched prurience
On their
corner islands of narcotic influenced hymens,
These
deleterious sirens
Enchant
their pathetic ships
Unto the
depths of dark alleys
And
money obsessed grips.
Foaming
at the mouth she slips
Like
cattle that conform to their deathly paths.
Bio
Craig
Podmore is a writer and filmmaker from Manchester, UK. erbacce-Press published his first chapbook, I Am a Gun in 2009 and his second short
collection entitled The Abattoir Heavens
and The Holy Ghost back in mid 2010. He also has many full length poetry
collections under his belt…Love Notes
From A Soldier’s Diary (NeoPoiesis
Press), The Hell in Me, the Hell in
You (Oneiros Books), DO NOT CENSOR (Oneiros Books), an autopsy of
the spleen (chapbook published by Bone
Orchard Press), Entropic Elegies (Lapwing Publications), Pornocopia (Oneiros Books) and most
recently, AMPHITHEATRE Or The Anatomy of
Nowhere (Dynatox Ministries). Craig has also had the delight of
having his debut novel published, The
Origin of Manias (Oneiros Books). He also
ventures into self-publishing, his personal publishing platform, 'Antiseptic
Press', thus far, he’s published his menacing poetry collection, Toilet Mouth and his latest despairingly
romantic/melancholic tome, In The Wake of
Love. Craig’s scathing poetry
and prose targets the absurdity of the modern man whilst also examining the
superfluity of morality and other paradoxes in humanity. ‘Antiseptic
Press/Productions’ is his own creative platform for his writing and filmmaking.
His
material and excerpts have appeared in some wonderful and strange magazines
such as Horror, Sleaze, Trash, Gutter
Eloquence, Sugar Mule, Meat songs,
1/25, Paraphilia Magazine, Bone Orchard Poetry, A New Ulster, Instant Pussy and
Unlikely Stories.
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