The Abattoir

Chunks of lamb-hearts studded on your teeth;
Let me wear these intestines as if they were you,
You have my permission to whistle.
I’ll call, beg, baa on,
Sawed heads in love.

Can you hold my hoof?
Wash down your blood with my knife,
My meat cleaves, my razors,

Oh we can sell ourselves off in pieces
& Wind back together.
I’ll hiss you in a pie,
You’ll hiss me in a soup,
Hear the pan’s oil giggle.

Roses on my neck,
And love in my ears,
I can hear your heart bleat
We hang from our feet like the night,
And the air our silvery sheath,

I can kiss your carcass into dust.
You can kiss me to blackened bones.



You’re always smoking in your house.
Remembering how Jack clipped you by the ear,
In Year 6. He kicked you up good enough,

gave a grin, called you weird. You were born 50.
Ugly ducklings don’t always get any prettier,
Nor do angels always find their wings.

You lit a smoke, and gave a grin at Ma’s funeral.
Put diesel in your Ford instead of petrol.
Burnt the wick at the bottom, not the top,

Angered when your wife was pregnant. You loved
your shitty boss. You loved his forgetfulness,
and not getting paid. You put framed photos

in front of an open fire. You smiled when your
child fell over, she’s only six but she’s learning
how to fail already. Clever.

Birthday banners upside down, and fishes out
of water, you did things very differently.
Not every angel found a pair of wings.

But you’re no angel, really.

Soho v. Paradise

The men with the tongues,
They fritter greasy kisses in the air
And between all the Illuminati Believers,
And Devil Detectors, I look for heaven
And he breathes into my eyes,
Pours water from his irises, Eden in a flash,
God in my left hand, Apples in my right,
And sunlight transcending my taste-buds
Falling like dust.

Back To Your Shores

It is written somewhere,
That the sun rises and falls
Like our hearts,
If night comes then embrace
Darkness like your mother,
And dawn like a murderer,

Drowning in your skin
You flush me into water
Shallow and cold but clear,
I ran away from your touch
I kissed your palms as I left

I melt into a cloud,
The picture stains with coffee and meat chunks
Blood on the kettle,
And bleach under the sofa,
The carpet grey.

And pieces of my wrists mince and my dead eyes wince
At your lip-licking stare,
But this is split-ends, discoloured roots, dead women,
And you love hugging cold fingers,
You’re all wet.

I’m 9 o’ clock,
You’re between my broken legs,
You’re the tube from Hackney,
You’re the lube from Ann Summers,
You’re the spade from Focus

And the fertiliser from Homebase.
Fuck my veins deep into your overwrought hands,
Your eyes look chilly,
It’s written somewhere that you want sun-hearts
And lung-sets, and I’ll dig my grave once more,

Kiss me back to heaven, back to your shores.

adam and eve

we grew on the lick of a sunset,
she knew, I knew,
ironic for a pair like us two,
to spit on knowledge from so sweet
a tree,

i jacked all over God the minute I
heard him,
the chocolate vowels resonating his
caramel commands,
I’m dribbling apple juice all over his
little creations,

and Eve looks like a would-be rose settling for a weed,
ran over by a herd of clashing seasons,
I would turn for God any day,
turn to him I would, God is the Greatest
or so they say,

I jacked over the animals he touched,
i didn’t need an apple to know I was gay,
give me a tree and I’ll climb all 7 skies
just to lick whatever part of him I see,
Eve says “fuck me”

and somebody’s stuffing lemons in my fractured
nose and acid in my tri-tone ever-changing eyes,
give me an orange, or a pear,
when I hear God my little heart skips over it’s own arteries,
and my tongue falls out

like sunlight, the colour of cranberries,
I jacked all over God when I smelled apples all over him,
and Eve ate one to imitate his stubble glow
I had a lick and thus be this;
I fucked God in the mouth 10 times over.

Losing It

you planted a giant’s kiss onto me,
I’m done with you,
I’m losing it,
she tastes of peaches and cream.

i hang out of your car,
I am a surplus body,
I am the apple core of your eye,
i taste of blood and african beans, cuban cigars,

your ‘stache a cigarillo,
Our differences are two cupcakes
She’s the slice of mushroom that saves Alice
i’m losing it,

the taste of a Giant’s Kiss,
butter wouldn’t melt on butterfly wings,
I talked to the flowers
but they’re not flowering,

and in my arms you spill
Her name like juice —
What do I think of her?
as any mother would,

my son be mine,
My husband be mine,
To differentiate the two
is asking me to die,

i cannot bake crumble as I could have done,
Are you driving my smiles
Into heavy ash, they wilt like your girlfriend,
she tastes of peaches and cream,

i sip into the red wine, my teeth are dried grapes anyway,
My son be mine,
My husband be mine,
to differentiate the way we kiss

would be an invisible form of suicide,
Do you love me as I do?
Your red eyes make me homesick,
do your homework.

i am losing it,
“What do you think of her?”
Butter wouldn’t melt on butterfly wings,
flowers don’t bloom on where she sits,

you’re my pre-pubescent sweetie,
Do you remember how we fucked in Mama’s dreams?
I’m losing it,
“What do you think of her?”

i hardly know,
Darling she tastes of peaches and cream,
Now, hold my hand as we cross,
and place a Giant’s Kiss on my cheek.

The Good Man

paint me a shade I can’t decipher
and I’ll understand your fervour
comprehend your depression,
your elevation, revelation,
it congeals and sticks in my stomach
like chicken stock and toffee,
why don’t you drink coffee?

bruises consume you like a kiss,
how long would it take you to smoke cigarettes?
my boyfriend does not do drugs
but he does drugs for sex
yes and he bends and congeals in my blood
and he stinks of kerosene,
his tongue bleeds oil, petrol like confessions
as tireless as the train station

he fingers his playstation
like he does his women after dark
and he promises me flowers like afterlife,
give me heaven, why do you not drink coffee?
why do you not roll your blunts like
the way you roll out the night with stars
and photographs of naked teenage girls,
college students and bandanas,
his type is sophisticated and he wanted a
red head
but I feel him congeal me like a soup sauce,
and he eats me,
he eats into me.


They wind around my neck,
fingers to thumbs, lips to cigarettes,
bone-cracking, boners bigger than
the length of the sky,
and my girth is about 10x thicker than
a cloud-chase,
ace in the hole,
girlfriend in a chokehold.

Boy, with paper planes
and soaking in pink ladies; in waiting,
cuter than a button,
and smaller than his boy-freckles,
his football in my backyard,
and space galactic walls, lost in dead sky,
his girth is about 10x thicker than
a cloud-chase,
ace in the hole,
girlfriend in a chokehold.

Let me treat you, feed you, love you
like meat,
meat string, let me strangle you
like education does to you,
put your head in a book and I’ll drown you in words,
Boy, your girth is about 10x thicker than
a cloud-chase
ace in the hole,
boyfriend in a chokehold.