Count Suckle

 

In the cold blooded church of  PIMPDOM

There are always souls to be BROCKEN

Count Suckle  sits on a red fake fur shag

Verrucaed feet in

burnt socks

Getting juiced on girlie flicks

and two teaspoons of cocaine

He’s looking for the bright side

Away  from banks and corporate brands

Away  from the  bankrupt moon

and mortgaged stars

He digs his fingers in his ears

Every day  every day when he wakes up

he spews out an acid green sunless cough

 

 

 

Saira Viola
Illustration Nick Victor


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One Response to Count Suckle

  1. Cy Lester says:

    Count Suckle belongs in the pages of the Almanach de Corvo.

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