Well it’s been a bastard few weeks, comprising both extremes of fun and misery. Excellent combination. These poems are all from a while ago – possibly even the first half of this year, and yet they call to me fresh and relevant from the rosebed of life.
They tread once more my familiar themes of loathing stupidity and the desperate failings of others to communicate either elegantly or well.
I recently read some more Shankanalia out at Pub Poetry and was thrilled to find they were both terrifying and amusing.
Do enjoy them with friends or family. You can follow @shankanalia on Twitter too. There’s a bunch of stuff I read for you at: Reverbnation.com/CaptainPigheart
Shoving Angry Poetry in Your Aural Canal
Internal Distemper
Oh hello there
You must be a feeling
Come and find a place
To be
In a space
On my face.
I don’t know you well
But you feel
Right about
Here.
Punctuality is Next to Accuracy
Starts at 9.30.
Starts at 9.30!
Be on time,
Get there early,
Don’t be late.
9.15:
It’s a 9.30 meet for a ten o’clock start.
Motherfuckers.
My sleep.
Brevity, An Impossible Feat
Indeed,
To summarise –
That is,
Condense our verbosity.
To briefly compress,
With short words.
I think you’ll find
The answer – we’re out of time.
Aneurysm By The Slide
I understand.
I do,
Oh god I do.
Don’t you have a handout?
Please.
I can’t take it:
PowerPoint doom,
Collapsing cogitation,
Death brain…
Oh I weep.
Quick Witted Fuckwit
My brain is dying.
The speed of your discourse
Like mind treacle
Wading through the slovenly
Progress of words-
Time too short;
Faster please.
Eleven AM
Fist chasing madman
Looped fist looping
Frenzy of fisted blur
Every throw misses
Circular punches
Maybe not drink so early
In the day?
Ask and You Shall Receive
If you didn’t want it
You shouldn’t have asked
For it.
What you got
Is what you needed.
You don’t know
How much I need to gut you-
Extract it from the source.
