Saturday, March 17, 2012

Swine Pearls

Chantal ~ Sean Cheetham

In the thoughtless beauty of Saturday’s studied violence
Where thorn-less roses bloom designer blood-stained
I saw your glass face facet slowly crumble
As delicate deer cross killing room floor
From tomorrow’s doorway opening
To the Meta-amphetamine applause of fashion

In the figurative fever of your fugitive loose-leaf ledger
Figures weigh up of what you have managed to lose
In the drowning pool of all your possessions

Echo my footstep
Glass slipper left to crumble
Worship my beauty my plastic mother figure

Echo my footsteps
Parody my drunken stumble
Worship my pigface you pious motherfucker

In the figurative fervour of your futile loose-leaf ledger
Figures weigh up what you have managed to lose
In the decaying gleam of all your possessions

In the thoughtless landscape loveless luckless loser liar
A rope of thorns for ripped-off rambling roses
I wear your bones on drum-skin terse as tattoo
Bear my body’s slow decline
As a wooden floor
Bears the weight of the past’s stiletto apex

4 comments:

Garth said...

I think I need some Anger Management

Harlequin said...

i loved this poem. fuck anger management.

the pious motherfucker line was marvelous. and the word play throughout was wild and effective.

Confessions of a Temporal Lobe said...

Harlequin has it right!
Brilliant bit of writing!

Confessions of a Temporal Lobe said...

Forgot to mention. This Poem made me think of the song, Cave in Hell, by Narrow Terence, off the album Narco Corridos.