Behead those lion heads
who bathe on lotion sands
and twist the fire to replace yoga
with wretching.
Take away the skin plug
and water gags;
install grave
cover with masticated gauze
and proceed, pro seed!
Oily cheating wounds stunned by shame.
Lo behold the bruised flytraps
as heads roll and teeth chip,
a surge toward the liquid gallows.
these mourning arms need execrise in craving.
And when all the tales
lay spent like barking dames,
the autumn bandsaws shreik quiet
at the oblivion of blowfish feet...
©Steven Francis poems 2013
'The Heron Ponds' is the 7th collection of poetry and short stories from Welsh poet, writer and blogger Steven Francis. Enjoy!
