Category poems

the tipton jedi

at her terminal in the library of a small, forgotten planet she wonders who the others are and how they made it here when it closes, she walks to the stop finds the 42 left a long, long time ago…

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parkour

in another city or another part of town one of them would be filming this on his Go-Pro the slo-mo catching every leap, the light just right, camera passing over the designer brands casually-worn because they know they deserve them…

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stabberjocky

(with apologies to Lewis Carroll) ‘Twas Brexit, and the slithy Gove did frottercrutch in dwarfish glee; he snicker-snacked the Camerove, Machiavelliadastardly. Beware the stabberjock, my son! The empty eyes, the robo-glint! who fellobrates the Murdocrone the Ruperturtle übergimp! He pallerised…

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369 000

Here is a poem for the others who are born on mud floors marshland and high plain in homes of plastic and flattened tin in spat-out estates in lands whose time has gone in the mewling sprawling cities of the…

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