A Cloudy, Perranporth Gripe

… performed via the medium of balloon-helium and pretend-serious faces…

Fucking ‘Dandelion Wishes’… eh, really?
Harsh Reality’s what you get
… and you’re lucky to be getting that!
‘Castles In The Air’, sunshine,
‘clout-round-the-lughole’s what you want.
‘Love’s become as hollow as a bass drum’
what does that even mean?
‘Tender’ tastes like marzipan shivers
(providing marzipan’s your favourite)
showing you childhood memory
photographs that no-one
was clever enough to actually take
… people don’t want you talking like that
… I said “Shut Up… Please!”
Snaking your left-arm like a conger eel
attacking… doesn’t explain anything?
I’ve had it up to here with your imagination
… it’s like a beautiful Explosion…
why would you describe a fickle ‘Feeling’
as kaleidoscope-esk in diameter?
“Jesus Christ, stop lifting up the hem
of Colours… or whatever you call it
… and a ‘Canoe’ is adaptable out of water
is no kind of answer, or argument, you fool!”

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. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.