Satire. Any resemblance to you is entirely down to your sense of self importance.

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Alphabet rain.

Today I burned my poems
a bonfire of my own vanities
words sent skywards
on vortices of their own hot air's making

Some caught in nearby trees
others falling upon the Westway
the majority fly skyward taunting
a million empyrean chimps shakespearing

at their keyboards.

I imagine abstract condensing
amid cumulus then
falling Burroughs like
as alphabet rain forming
nonsense puddles in foreign fields

Or circling vulture like
over a carcass



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