Rage cry die whatever
Develop an emotion
Experience something relatable
In its banal horror
Swallow it all and spin it
Like a spider
Spin it out your arse
Some rarefied verbal silk
I hope it’s valuable
Even moths can earn you dollar
In this world.
Blue sky girl
blue head in the clouds
juices, destined to go to
far away lands, and
slather far away bodies as they sit
under palm fronds,
Naked, except for a smile
in an old car, on the same road home.
© Case Watson, 2017
Look at her
On her phone, the antisocial bitch
She should be acting like a normal person and making small talk on public transport
Like we do
I may be mentally ill but I’m not the kind that finds solace in strangers
I have the privilege of selecting my audience
The privilege of insight and inborn fear and being able to know
That I’m supposed to leave the general public alone
We’re an insular people let’s keep it that way, that’s what their straight-ahead gazes say.
So instead i watch em
Trapped together, still alone
And write notes about em on my phone.
Check out the whole of my NaPoWriMo effort, starting here.
Spine serpentine snakes coils flicks rigid
crawls through skin this
sweated penance crawls
into the heart
Remember the difference between arteries and veins:
veins go ve(IN) towards the centre of you
trying in vain to send a message of warmth to the core
Skin is permeable paper membrane
pierced by the faint glimmer of stars
the sharp ends of the moon’s whetted sickle
hundreds of hypodermics
Pierced by need
coiling kundlini rising from its fetid nest at base of spine
mouth agape fangs snagged on raw nerves
constricting crushing stomach ribs lungs liver to
from which it has sucked the stagnant blood
Serpent tongue flicks forked into thoughts
adrenal glands spasm faced with
horror. hardwired. primal.
A predator is close,
you are hunted
twitch like a rabbit. Break-
Dart free of your body, if you can –
O serpent of starvation, you will never be fulfilled
This is part 2 (Day 5) of the NaPoWriMo Poetry Dump. Read the first part here. It continues here.
I’m doing it. Kind of. 30 poems in 30 days.
Day 1: [content indecipherable]
Day 2: Hangover Haiku
Fuck my life and oh
my days. May God have mercy
on my foolish ways.
Day 3: A Shadorma
We lay out
in the thorn striped grass
after a nightful of dark
drink the leaves’ cool green
Day 4: Mirror
Something stares out from my eyes
some strange wet thing, a toad
glimpsed at the bottom of a pond
A child, dirty face pressed to a window
contorted and mournful
cries muted by glass.