Insane and luving it Poems

My job is worth much
more than eleven drachma
an hour. The venom
...

My metaphor is short for some
But longer for others.
I won’t quite know when I’m finished. You shall have to guess.
It will be expensive, as I am spending time
...

Persons there, standing
Are they people or coat hangers?
With folds of skin loosely draped over
Skeletal figures
...

I tried giving depth,
slipping on the sky

they bawl, missing me by millimetres as they
...

Shivering strips slithering
Circular ribbons
twisting and dizzy
of rose and green hue.
...

Have you ever seen a plethora?
Do you even know what a plethora is?
Does your plethora eat grass or feast on the sky?
Does he bubble along to the Sauvignon fizz?
...

Practice the evil before
A hand reaches over, or we will
Never see the light of
Day. Please, let it
...

They span in the wind
twisting and tunneling
wordy and leaf-like
crackled and dry
...

Chips worn away from
overuse
Smooth and cheerful besides
It slid round her neck
...

Ere she breathes, softly weeping
Dreams brush past her eyes a sleeping
The cupids’ arrows rebound away
No thing can pierce the Break of Day
...