The Rhyme And Reason What Brought Me Here

The underlying wound
Beneath all egotism
Often un-inflicted
By any knowing care
But inflicted all the same..
Come come, now now, there there

Maybe caused by the cod-embrace
Of an incubator corner
Or a doctor's clumbsy artery-needle
Leaving mummy, mummy there

The dearth of warmth
The dearth of home
In any post-natally
Depressed vacuum

The dearth of mirror
And wealth of who?
In any absent
Parent-room.

And years on later
The adult-zygotes
Skulk proud in the corner
Of some suave affair

With mustard coloured
Mohair hair
To swamp her tiny frame's unglare
Clicking dorothy-heals but do beware
For there make up the parque floor
Cuboids of skin baked hearts of the sweet

These producers' whim
Art's sickle-cell grim
While everybody sick protests of soul
Wind whistle's through their god-shaped hole

Their wrinkled fingers link like fronds
Make baskets filled with evil scone
And in the fattest purses it is not the rattle of coins
But the teeth of kids they kill for sport.

The bpm of slimy tunes
Conceal the silent hampstead room
The vacuous or empty grins
Where rigor all about set in.




(c) D. Allison 2006-7. All Rights Reserved.

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Night-time..
Conspicuous
Does not forget
Shorter of breath
Than shock
Itself

Night-time..
A just-sold shrine
To Hell
Where tales of Grace
Lie
Dusk did fell

A Yard
The length of
Magic-wick
Where inward facing
Madness breeds
In corners
Dusk kneels planting seeds
The grimmer
Wretch
The mirror
Feeds

The light must die
And reap the weed
Of day time's
Folly
Purile cheaps
The night-time-reaper
Face and steep
And nowt there is for it
But Sleep
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(c) D. Allison 2006. All rights reserved.