REPRENSATIVE
I hold the floor
though few here care
that paupers share
my bilious core,
my bilious core
that paupers share
though few here care
I hold the floor.
I hold the floor
as livewires think
of subjugation
my focused nation
my focused nation of subjugation
as livewires think
I hold the floor.
I hold the floor
can do no more
one knife wield plunge
my job is done.
My job is done
one knife wield plunge
can do no more
I hold the floor.
© Pat Mellow 2018 (published in Havik)
A Mouth Full of ‘Hood
A Colner called Nelson opened that day’s saunter –
a roving tour of Forever; Together, Again, Fallen –
past Farmfoods plastic and San Miguel past it
to Tansey, Shepherd and Deborah Kay,
Clark, Baxter, Diggins and Hartley.
Farran, Afzal, Gildea with Bhakti,
Bracewell, Whalley, a Kelly and Masih.
Omerod, Collis, Heap then Peel,
Clive the Koppite by Red Devil Chris Lees.
Atkinson ‘entered into his saviour’s car’ as did
Kenneth Garlick, Swarbrick, Nazar.
Dorothy May Worn: your stone so small;
the Headlams larger, austere, unadorned…
Phyllis – as Samana – has an ice-cream cone;
Clive his pool balls; Holland ‘the Scholar’, seeming at home.
But ABCB, ‘Elijah 4 Taylor‘ Tony!
That was then, a Leeds deserted
’cept for your pen and those swazzed stones and
my Mum upset at your V’d tear-up
over Yorkie scum and their fascist furore.
Perhaps collected Nelsoners might be a sign of peace.
Of Popoweitz and Aslam and Marian‘s Deidre
goggles grinning strangely ever more.
Moses with Munro, Tempest with Fanny.
All interred at Winewall, ‘God bless cock’ and Dr Malik,
Gus Am Bris La’… John Bazley.
Houghton, Nancarrow, Seel, Shutt and Gill,
Brunskill and Hassan, Waheed, Phelan –
the thurible of white sense
– must now bed down in na flaithis
with umani chaat Jannah.
© Pat Mellow 2018
Great Weavers
This communique solemnly informs all concerned
that the PCCP will not tolerate
the conspiratorial tone and undoubted
chicanery of the aggressors who
attempt to face us down.
All provocation is met
with scorn, merely fuelling
the fire within
our literate
bellies this time, and every time,
and is ultimately futile.
The Great Leader (praise
be to LM and LKJ) watches over
our nation to ensure the detritus and doggerel
will be swept away thereby
guaranteeing a glorious and bountified
syllabic future for us all.
© Pat Mellow 2016
Third Forty-five
Miles chases
p i ano . Follows
stead bass,
coupled with that
quick
short
cym bal
patter, p-i-n-n-ed. By fatter bangers
the
pow derd turn
my now backdrop
to these broke bars
of how to take two
tunes, say Hov, trance, down pitched, half-speed, merge get a third,
4 B!
Like combine… ……to throw
acrossstraight Murphy
John, Yoko.
[Break for the break]
But are there any more breaks for thee?
No more a writer than Futura arranged flowers, phrr! Soak in, in, in.
Instead a Ger- %$main germ
four-four
four-four
from Miles: his harvest comes then a note
tulip___________________________________________________________________-s gliss-
-endos twixt
black and white, a counter point.
© Pat Mellow 2018