Thursday, 27 June 2013

Linus Slog, wulfmonath




from Reckoning (Cambridge LiteraryReview, II, 5)

this scowl is nothing more than
winter burn
              blood lines,
              scorched + spun.      thread
+ weave /  thread + weave this
woven            thread

Aa see you.  akin to speculation
forward                                      aye
                                              aye
                                       aye
                           here’s the cusp

first born.  all knowing
bak+forth bak+forth
ice bound . heart of oak . leden

yuz think me aad-farant,
wading through the human
swirl mute as shadow.



I  do.                                I done.
S L A I N        By the A66 Pagan
Wanderer Lu fixed me in Vinyl
and I not hardly wry wit fingers
hup/stick frozen, frequently I,
instead pretend to like mittens
being fond + stupit + tired of
me life.

Dear Skald, I amm certain you
know of Leaf Cutter John +
Johnny me Laddie + Johnny in
the Poke. We are Border
Reivers; breeding quickly +
prolific like, living + feeding on
garbage + faeces like, Musca
domestica with shiny
new ahnds.

Swine Forkbeard has become
King of Denmark.



You think its clivver. I wish I
couldtellahIluvah + it not be
too soon. She is smaller +
slender, no sharp upward
bent + cheeks still rosy with
choke-damp. Do I tekk yr fancy
with me hare-lip + hirple?

Swine.  Two hours to go and
still your resolve is not weak
en/ in

I kick me self, for I have missed
Leaf Cutter John + now,
Forkbeard, the swine with
spines + bristles + not tekkin
none of yr nonsense [how]
obliterates owt
that gets in the way.    Wuhd best make refuge
of the midden.

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