pogrom of suet

Indibulous congrulations of frock, 

sully the mandibles in Cheshunt. 

Did you read me in your beans? 

(Like the ghost of a baby bird 

what's fallen out of it's nest.) 

Milifluent dispact of redulance, 

promfiscate me with your sparrow. 

I am branded like Pirelli, 

wish I had a thousand ears.

Every word is a worm egg

Bruising your soul

Nestling in your brain With fits of knowledge

In the back of your throat

Like a teem of maggots Eruptions of vomit Pour out of your mouth

Your ears, your eyes

your nose

like a pogrom of suet

like aural yo-yo's
a resurrection of do-do's.

05/05/2016 - Moscow