Monday, 28 December 2020

Essenkenplatz Rower (Illustrated)

 




(Lichtenstein's Still Life with Red Wine) 


He was the sort that

Would carry beer mats in his

Covert coat pocket

For unstable tables that 

Would bump into him often


Borscht spat Benday dots

On badly lain flags by The

Absolute Friday

Nighters with Stazi barnets

He was tucked up to avoid


The down dent left by

Second story safe haul was 

The cheek suck of the

Bar girl's neat note for the numb

'er for ambivalence see





(Dalí's Lobster Telephone) 


The sniff dog's nod not

Bread of expectation not

Stall tied to edge the

Clamourous bus burr was he

Quall to the fuss of walking


You bets whispered in

Two battered whiskers placed by

The strife eternal 

Diced and shifted gifted to

The nowhere not even odd


There not could provide

A new collar to button

He put his finger

Right the fuck on it tonic

And crossed the narrow road wide





(Bertelli's Profilo Continuo (Testa di Mussolini)) 


The memorial

To the dog with two dicks he

Passed the bronzed pigeon

Shat on statue to a simp

Pairing tit of the drool stool


Kinder scoots strewn as

Homeless folk's strewth dotted he

Spotted the libr'ry's

Shut as John's paper shop was

Like his cigarette rolled up 


He lingered fingered

For an excuse for a coin

Not choc lit he flicked

Through the poetry bit of

Sue Ryder's put out of sorties 





(Herakut's I got quite good at hiding the herd from those who kill beauty for fun) 


Crisp his soup head dreamt

Of rye bread but not that sort

Beyond caged whistles

And mirrors of his drying 

Window sun budget cigar 


Pickled plates a cream

American Frank furs the

Diner's sound soured at 

Psycho records on plastic

That jukebox lent him in thin


He judge watched narrow 

Eyes and James Dean smiles so snuck

The doorway dark as

Fuck to hear imagine ary

Women there misplaced for luck







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