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 May 2018 Paul Butters
Cné

Poetry comes back to me
where long there had been none.
Lyrical, the imagery, once shared
and then was done.

Thoughts of such sincerity
in words that grace the page,
Race across the span of time
that bridge the gap of age.

Trusting in the ardor that
has cooled and healed with time,
I read again the tender lines
of kindred souls, in rhyme.

Oh spirit of another age,
reach out from time and space.
Fan the embers turned to ash
and torpid ruin replace.

“Attention! For those desiring body
Re-construction.  You can be on the
way to a new You. Now thanks to a
range of  cosmetic techniques,
your true beauty is unlocked”.
Dr. Hiram Shapemgood.

Take my mate’s girl friend - answered the advert:
she’s a cosmetic surgeon’s dream:
Botox rid the wrinkles round her eyes
and Lipo-Suction smoothed her cheeks.

Then the talk was all about
her saggy, thin lips: a  Trout Pout
soon  transformed them into
tasty,  luscious smackers.

She just had to get a Nose Job.
a Chin Lift followed that.
Neck Fat Transfer was a bargain
and banished unwanted floppy bulges.

For the sake of body proportion,
A **** Job next: had them reshaped:
made pert with silicon implants
firmer, fuller, lifted, enhanced.

As for her abdomen – The Tummy Tuck.
Buttocks augment? – The **** Lift,
Hips reshaped. Thighs trimmed.
Knees, calves, and ankles re-contoured.

She loves herself the way she is
and swears it’s all worthwhile.
As for him? She who once was toned, elastic,
he reckons might as well be Barbie Doll plastic.

TOBIAS
Near a green hollow where a ditch runs
it lies off road: grassy fronds toss
shade back towards the sun’s
rays that  fall on cushioning moss.  
Hit by a passing vehicle - I surmise…

A badger, mouth open, jet hair
bathed in blue water cress
seems asleep, white blazed, unaware
of clouds and wind’s caress.
On closer look  - a grim surprise…

Like a stroller taking a rest,
its nostrils uncloyed by scents.
Motionless. Laid out on its chest.
In its right side are two red rents.
Lead-shot peppers the entry wounds.

TOBIAS
Farmers are known to shoot badgers and deposit the dead creature on roadsides....
 May 2018 Paul Butters
Bryant
Classic classroom with plastic juices
It’s never safe and sound here cause  
The bar’s set in the ground.
Since I started I felt ostracised
Left in the corner I would criticize
The giants in the sky.

So time flies by
As my friends get high
On legal drugs handed out for free.
I ride by with a breeze.
With this luck I could buy a group of escorts with STDs.

Pointless ointment
Rubbing wounds that you created.
Hold on to that statement.
Do you hear yourself?
You’re suffocating!
Give yourself a reason to wake up just one more day!
Little by little we can change reality.
But first, we need to get off this island
So sailing out to sea, let’s leave.
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