Many a pecksniff
Has accused me of being
Sibylline, noetic
and downright churrigueresque
Sesquipedalian words dazzle
In wambly, callathumping fluttermouse
Zwang
Can you tell I got a new thesaurus?
Tag: poem
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16 millimeter chatter
magic shadows paint the screen
lost in the celluloid
old movies have always been my first 🖤
-
watching serials
real men could fight and fly then
two tone cliff-hangers
watching old republic serials on vhs on the back porch
-
when i go
love me
pretty soon
i do think
NOW
remember me
WELL
let my skin
be your
warm cloak
and my heart
BURN
in your fire
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rescuing sewing
machines so convicts can make
face masks for everyone
traveling to Michigan penitentiary to donate time and equipment for those in need
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leaving the council
no longer a trusted hand
graduating upwards
as an academic i have many duties serving on councils and committees
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Over the bar at Mott street
A bank robber you’d be likely to meet.
Michael Kerrigan was an expert at cracking a safe
The authorities in NY he continued to chafe.
‘The nearer the Church, the closer to God,’
Quipped Kerrigan – his crimes near the local police squad.
He died in the alcoholic ward of Bellevue Hospital
His mistress selling an expensive broach to pay for his funeral.
Another #truecrime poem based on an outlaw from yesteryear. Researching and finding out more about these criminals continues to be an absorbing passion.
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her nose
falls downwards
into piles
of snowy white
cocaine is
deadly endless
waste for
the idle rich
slavery for the
common man
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and as you sleep I gaze on your cornflower brow
your eyes tremble in waves of grain soft undulating sea
my fingers brush your tomato lips your reddening smile
as the morning breaks your garden awaits open and inviting
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the tower today
conflict and confrontations loom
my heart hangs broken
one of those shitbag days where everything is such a weight
Outlaw Poetry 