For Those Missing In Reaction
In the darkest of jungles
I’ve hunted & collected
black market creatures
spawned from the crooked deals
of the well healed and concealed
criminal classes
riding high with Pablo & Carlos
in an altered cosmos
where the likes of Escobar
is some kind of super star
and heartbroken mothers
are left to clean up the mess
forever counting the cost
In the midst
of this deepest sadness
the reminiscence
of a secret happiness
From the highest peaks of light
to the Isles of outer darkness
she came shining bright
my Lady of the Harvest
my Belladonna of the Night
In the midst
of this deepest sadness
the reminiscence
of a secret happiness
From the highest peaks of light
to the Isles of outer darkness
she came shining bright
my Lady of the Harvest
My Belladonna of the night
M.M.;
——- we who occupy ourselves
——- fear the rainbow
——- in our shadows
who dares measure the contours
of Placebo Town?
the kingdom outside the Placebo Walls
— the lunatic fringe —
Earth to Mars
My husband
is again missing
deep in cyber space
He was last seen
orbiting Mars
whilst writing a poem
Does Elon Musk know
that my X Man
Captain Lex Icon
got there first?
Now I’ve lost all trace!
Poetic words
Words revealing
Words that play with you
and hang from the ceiling
Words of the absurd
… devoured by birds
Words deceiving
Words that leave me
… lost for words
Words most appealing
Words that may never
ever wish to be heard
Words with true feeling
I had just checked in
to the Surfer’s Paradise
Hawaiian Motel
and was defrosting slowly
with a block of black ice
and a bottle of Wild Turkey
when the news broke …
the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll
that Brylcreem Adonis
had gone to meet eternity
He could rhythm & blues
the whole jail house block
at the Heartbreak Hotel
in his blue suade shoes
Elvis “the Pelvis” Presley
He could even
gospel his way
to the edge of reality
Heaven’s pearly gates
now blown straight to hell
A pill overdose?
Or perhaps
a Cheeseburger Deluxe
was the guilty party?
Time will surely tell
as the red neon
of a No Vacancy sign
flickers on
at the Surfer’s Paradise
Hawaiian Motel
“Just keep on walking!”
I saw a werewolf
with a hymn book in his hand
prowling around
as he sniffed the ground
from Jonestown to Gaza
He’s that well manicured gent
some say he is heaven sent
Huh, I’d like to meet his tailor
You can hear him howling
on your television set
Better not turn it on
Little old lady got bitten
late last night
Werewolves of religion again
. . . Ooh Ahh
