• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 06
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On the rocks

That was one hell of a night.
Only the terrible time
Nicky acquired tattoos,
Waking at five to a text
Message announcing the sack —
No more complacent, obtuse,
Dull afternoons at the shop,
Watching old movies, for him —
That is the only night out
Any of us can recall
Close to catastrophe like,
Anything like, what you’ve done
This time around. Would you look,
Please, at yourself? You’re a mess.
Eyeless, aghast, self-enslaved ...
Even old Nicky himself
Gawped. He’s impressed. By the whole
Damnable absence of flesh
Thing. And the headgear. Tell me,
What have you done with your left
Arm from the elbow on down
This time around? That was one
Hell of an evening, I know.
Evening and morning, I know.
Roofs have been raised. Even so,
Nobody hankers to see
Ribs and the skeletal look
Taken to such an extreme.
No, this is going too far.


On the rocks

Hey! No point in pointing
The finger. “It’s not what you think” —
All of that jazz. You fool.
Go and apologise now.
Somebody’s missing a skull,
Probably. Sort yourself out.
Later I’ll go to the shop.
Plead with Lorraine to forget
All of the curses you dropped,
Drunkenly high, on her head.
Never you mind. She’ll come round.
Cover that pelvis, for Pete’s
Sake. Seek forgiveness. Expect
Wind-borne macabre music
Rudely to blow in and out
Branching its note into joint,
Thigh bone, the gaps that the skin
Ought to protect. Boy: repent!