False Erection

(Part VI of The Candletree Graves Poetry Sequence)

Distressed carrion crow caws
aurally picture-frame
the early morning
in sombre Graveyard echoes.

When the Neck
doesn’t Snap…
we leave them to hang there
for two or three hours,
until the air clears.

It’s not the piss, shit and semen
which un-taps
during the suspended struggle.
Although, the scent
of body waste
does tend to set
the neighbouring pigs off.

It’s something else, completely
… you can taste
and feel ‘It’ at the same time.
There is nothing more powerful
than the Desperation
of a human being,
beyond fear,
and fighting back
against the absolute Inevitable.

It’s a dark and vulgar Magic,
which eclipses both
‘Love’ and ‘Hate’
… and hits the hardest,
most callous Bastard
right down to the root of his Soul,
merely by the painful watching.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer, who’s currently up to his elbows in Magic, and long may it remain this way. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.