UK Poet, Philosopher & Artist Ivor Griffiths' Official Website

nEw YeARs Eve Pome for HoMeleSS & all Clodplay fans zzzz….

~=: Beetle in a Basket :=~

A blowtorch, some pliers, some skin, and a scream,
C sharp pitch, the voice chipped flint,
smells of dry piss and fear of a cat; scraped off a shoe
a click prick’s will to politik, I think,


so spoke Zarathustra — to sign a tear in the lake –
to be remembered by a cured black-foot’s mind.

A melting totem carved in soap
and precisely positioned, gravity-wise,
relative to a legless one, who leaned and said,
“Wave, I can’t die,”

today anyway.

Then died anyway.


2 Responses to “nEw YeARs Eve Pome for HoMeleSS & all Clodplay fans zzzz….”

  1. Mantecanaut Says:

    Hmm, very chicklry.

  2. José Miguel Ridao Says:

    I liked it a lot. It leaves you dizzy and impressed at the same time.

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