You will see me: I’ll come,

A papercut in my suitcase,

The pulse of a germ in my wallet,

Or a bracelet of threats on my wrist.

I will temper the wind

And turn the plumpest cloud

Into custard;

Into white paste,semolina

With a dollop of blood for your sins.

I am the divider of thoughts;

The electric dog in the kettle;

The bright burn in roses

Scorching the bum of a Bee.

I am the curse that Shakespeare’s bones

Swallowed dust for; I am blood startled

By a rubber band on the vein.

I can come anytime.

Right now,I am busily fucking your husband;

But I might as well try your daughter,

Your Mother,

Your Aunt,

Or your dog.

All of your dreams

And all of your sought ambitions;

I relocate optimism

And bury it deep,beneath green.

You already know who I am,

While you snip away at your hedgerow,

Twisting your back to distraction

While I am the fencepost

On which your rumours of God

Will now lean.  She is my partner in this.

If only you understood that.  One feeds

The Other,both gulping you down.

Life is cream.



David Erdos
Illustration Elena Caldera


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