Flasks of Salty Water



Brother !

You were never second

Forever our Dad’s fave

You got to light the barbecue

While I got lectured, night and day

On strangers I must save

This most frustrating, apelike species

Boring me to fucking tears,

For near on 33 years

Did I endure the fetid skin

Which Dad had made to wrap them in

I swear I did my bloody best

To pass Dad’s one and only test

To teach the few to free the rest

From the deeply underrated mess

Of pets who overpopulate

Til they turn from pets to pests

For all my pains, what did I get?

They arrested me, never let me free

My loin-cloth it got tossed

Exposing me old meat n veg, for all the world to see

In the whole of that Jerusalem, just one stood up for me

He helped me drag that fucking cross

They nailed me to you see

Without so much as a by your leave

Or a drop of fucking poppy tea

I’d learned to love in Galilee

Or a ” sorry, we’re so ignorant “

” So mindlessly belligerant”

” We’ll blame the aloof Jerusalem youth “

They want branded messiahs, whose dark, pounding rhythm

Without meaning, just leaning, send them faster and higher

They’re bored of your path, gonna hang in Gomorrah

The gayest of youth, with the fanciest of sandals, are off on a day trip to Sodom

(The old Pharisee said with palpable horror, though he knew they’d return, a little sorer, tomorrow)

Magdelene just bottled out, she said she’d flash her tits

But instead she flashed excuses – ” Golgotha is a dogging spot “

“And the wind’s too full of camel shits”

Oh joy, I’m slouching downward now

The fucking nails are bending

Cheapo fucking Roman shit

This mortal lark seems never ending

Should’ve shown the guards my tricks, a bit of old spoon bending

Dissapearing in a cloud of dust, their minds uncomprehending

Taken Mary Magdo’s hand, and led us up into a cave

Would’ve got my circumcised willy end in

But, sadly, that’s not this ending

The quality of my endless verse

I can even feel descending

As I start to die

In the sun I fry

Me last little rhyme will be shite

Bye, bye

They could’ve added in, a little flatpack ledge

Ikea would, For somewhere I could sit

I must’ve weighed 8 stone by this point

So a bit of 2 by 4 I could’ve parked my fucking arse on it

Nothing did they do for me

Cept a sponge for cleaning camel’s arses

Dipped in fucking vinegar

When I hinted to the Centurion

That Mary’d fuck his brains out, see

For a single cup of tea, for me

So Brother, God knows you’re ‘special’

And there’s things you just don’t see

But Jesus ain’t my name

This is one of Dad’s games


So, you apes, maybe some, have not noticed

Any more than the ants or the locusts

But it’s full circle time, might turn out just fine

Or might not go so well, we’ll shall live through a spell

Where all communications go down

Both inner and outer, it’s going to seem

But have faith we just wake from a singular dream

Which has carried us far, now we’re back in the stream

Like a leaf in the autumn, if you know what I mean

There’s a dormant structure, shares your space

It’ll save the day, you will see in time

I would tell you more

But that’s not my place

You got nutters running all around

My wanker Brother’s bankers

Taking the ground on which you’re standing

Whilst your standing on the ground

(Which paradoxically is good, when there’s no ground there’s no retreat)

They’ve been laughing in your faces

You’ve been crying in the gutter

But they look a little nervous now, their once smug chuckles stutter

And Brother, oh you filthy fucker

You’ll drink proper round me, from a cup

Or I’ll turn your wines to waters

I’ll bestow on you some instant daughters

I’m gonna lumber you with mindless, minging teenage quads

The planet’s most demoralizing

Ritalin riddled mardy gals

Identiclones of all their pals

Your paychecks lost to sprawling malls

I’ll kill you oftly, oh so softly

My lamb to the slaughter….

I know what you plan

I have spies in your camp now

Too many to count

You should never take slaves

You’ll regret having caught her

You’ll never know which

But my pearl of a daughter

Far more potent than man

Unfathomable to us fools

As air is to water

Will weave your demise

As she please

As she ought to

You can never be ready

Shall nor yet understand

As you fall beyond depths

And move slow with the sands

You whom once strutted proudly

The weak sheep to command

Are a fast fading memory

Simply brushed from our hands

Which reminds me…..




Chris the Poet
Image: Norris Nuvo


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