Young and old

We ask: is there any violence in you?
if there is, ask abundant crabs
mingle with shrewd darkness to: attention!
and ask the horrible dawn, why it smashes among the gulls above

In pebbles of wind, silence becomes the havoc
the beast of pain is like a palm smashing into affray-
i have lost my will not to be more
my shackles are holograms, the brute calling skin a perfect liar

Miasma, flavoured space, gas pouring from our limbs
thrice mortal and immortal, twice moral and never moral
swoons in a coffin made of dancing light
fresh enough to eat the grass below a stampede of oxen

I dream of servitude, the gusts, the play, the pageants of hate
but inside my limbs, thorax, enemies and peace, there is no time
fire-flies mate in baths, the conversation is white
the steam is a skein of luxor, and the ghosts shall always replace.


is Raoul Moat in a boat. His first words were ‘Newky Brown’. As well as being our most prolific writer, René also creates graphic art, paintings and screenplays.

Latest posts by renemutume (see all)

    This entry was posted by renemutume.

    Leave a Reply

    Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *