Ship-Shaped and Bristol Fashioned

A House Of Lords Whip let’s his tongue run freely after a half bottle of Brothel Bar Brandy

I am a complete and utter Bastard!
Evil and Wicked
never quite sum-up my behaviour
and stinking, rotten deeds,
but they are often mentioned
in the very same breath
as my notoriously, black name.
I, myself, wouldn’t want to meet me
down a well-lit alley late at night
never mind a dark one.
If Hell actually exists,
Then I am not just going there,
I belong there,
the place was invented for my sick ilk.
Yet, after all that is said and done,
the first Sunday of each new month,
I put the ‘Sadist’ in me aside…
and after four short hours in Madam
‘Do Exactly As You’re Told, Worm’
Harriet’s Dungeon for Scum-Suckers.
Getting shat, spat and pissed upon,
in between the
‘You’ve Broken My Nail, Maggot’
beatings and humiliations.
I once more emerge, pavement-top,
with my despicable conscience
as clean as the proverbial ‘Whistle’.
It’s better than ‘Repentance’
or ‘Confession’ (I would imagine?)
… and I am once more,
energy-charged-up to degrade myself,
and everyone around me, mercilessly.

Paul Tristram is a widely published Welsh writer who deals in the Lowlife, Outsider, and Outlaw genres.  He wrote his first poem as a teenager following his release from the (Infamous) Borstal ‘HMP Portland’, and he has been creating Literary Terrorism ever since.  His novel ‘Crazy Like Emotion’ published by Close To The Bone Publishing is available to purchase right here Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.