who re-marrowed this hollow tree ?
thought themselves of mythology ?
processed death into the dying **** ?
blunt blackened hope
buttering up what god ?
what mischief maker ?
: Loki the crow with his promethean nose ?
covering his crooked actions
the defiling of a life
murderer
a coward of failed coupling
congress a night down the pub
the gender polar pair collided
sottish upon their union
genitals bragging through urgent gaps in clothing
but that urgency deflated
it muttered away
he felt baited
and
humiliated
he committed to ******
crude amateur throttling
a ***** sogged brick
an indiscreet botch up
and a stolen wheelbarrow
to ferry her away
'The Mourning Tree'
despondently sifts for nourishment
its gummy combs of branches
sashing particles from the night solution
the tree ; a cavity
too verrucose and fleshy to whittle the winds
or fife a tune
a rubbery craggle foreign against the landscape
should rather make out its' habits
off the floor of a deep sea trench
roughing in the corpse
head first down the gullet thirstily
skirts up and claustro
between spread limbs
to ***** puckle in the hollow tree
evicting the bird of Minerva
‘whoing’ into the charged sky
blooded over
the night blackens further
brooding on the event
who re-marrowed this hollow tree ?
married themselves to a mythology ?
force fed life engorged within deathly seed ?
upended crime in lieu of a sacrifice
he offered a glass of woman
to oder the night
he strummed teasing fingers
raked them humming
through the heady resistance of the air
electric creeping warmth over the skin
erecting the hairs
museum silence
an arena as fraught equal between magnets
clouds cut the moon
moon cut the eye
sinful kiting to mend a link
ramblings kinked
he makes sparking incantations to the gods
one scatting madman
one corpse woman
that same bled night
where the furrowed fields
meets natures disarray
children approach this woodland border
children with empty baked bean tins
that they joined with lengths of string
trying to reach out their ears
extend their timid range
to sprites, nymphs, pucks or faeries
an older kid strikes up a cigarette
one of the younger ones squats to ***
and be mocked
one brave girl of ten years
runs a tin and the line into the woods
it jerks taunt after about thirty paces
she wedges it in a tree fork and runs back
the children crowd the receiver tin
spooking themselves
eavesdropping
upon the hollow wisdom of small gods
that mask their shame in the dark
influenced by ‘ Who put Bella down the Wych Elm? ‘
misuse of the word 'sashing'