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May 2017
Life's turbid meniscus, mudslide plateau:
Stagnant, yet does so frivolously flow.
But I might not drown slow in nondescript,
There is this crocodile - the scales of it!
Predator X but not 'low salt marsh ****,

Fresh sludge nor where kitefaced sharks assault,
Stareating choppy seas, black wave tumult.
For mental Charybdis this Croc's snout whisks!
And Scylla is bathtime Basilisk,
Next to Croc gunning for my gazelle wrists.

Red zebra scarrer's nest wasn't my soul.
That mantras to self, religym, dear whole  
Foods, mystic manorexic me could bash
Shell, omelette it when ferocious beaked foetus
- poppycroc! Oviraptor hatched maneater's

Egg in the sewer, home the undertow.
O come a crisis rises Sobek-jawed
Kraken mislaid, what would lay low as long?
Motionless depressive's Fu Manchu *******.
Croc wants my willing spirit, comes on strong.

Launched, pounced and clamped from some soundless waters,
I like a seal pup, Croc is the orca.
Green killer whale could have condo on beach,
Up a month's mountain of false love it reached.
Turns out the mountain was one of its teeth.

And now it tears me around and around,
I'm not its floppy lunch until I'm drowned.
My kingdom for some sausages, might munch
Them instead of me, slumped like Mr.Punch
In Croc's deadly maw no hand can revanche.

Tory quacks privately prognosticate
Croc's cutlerydrawer chasm would not gape
If prestidigitators idle were
Idler, not signing on. Croc's gobbier
At work tho', snaps like possessed photocopier.

Cochlea's not conscious of galoshes,
Waterproof swish where billabong sploshes,
Nor by hackneyed-to-death banks of de Nile,
Fishies welcomed in iron maiden smile.
No, I cut myself with Croc's used toothfiles.

No rescue in Mirtazapine, Sertraline,
Venlafaxine, Amitriptyline,
Psychiarmpits askin', 'Am I trippin'?
Life's a good old stick, make it fit in
Monstrous black hydraulic head-to-tail grin.'

Psychotherapy can't turn me into
Steve Irwin or Alligator Glasgow.
Life's serrated vice, stick a stick between?
No length, no width had stick of psyche mine
- Croc could be hairgrip to rip my flea-leg mind.

My Emo Reg group into a custard
Cream's Victoran Illuminateye stared,
Arabesque biscuit mindfulness improv.
Gill said she watches washing-machine wash.
But I'm mindful, eternally, of the croc.

Even Nurse Steve's hologram poster shirt
Couldn't space me out when it's 18-cert
Emo-eppy in Pete's dragon's ghost mouth.
I'm dinner-ticket punched by reptile's tooth
Unseen, but my arm's Ol' Croc id brain's chewed proof.

Impermeable membranes blind the rooms,
I'm bottom of River Crocodoldrums.
Evocative of my crocodeath now all
(when I did a little spliff hospital,
Ended up origami gharial...)

Shockadile Mockadile Blockadile, dial
Samaritans, Crisis Team, Frasier, Niles,
My mum. No, dial yours, mine would be nervous
My life and death are not equally worthless.
Otherwise, for what purpose does Croc surface?

But why when Croc only lurkitty lurr...
Must my muse pick its fangs like brassneck bird?
Nile Plover is crumbpecker poet, wins
Dicey delicacy, my own scattered limbs
From jaws of defeat. But I want in.
Lysander 'Lice' Hardy-Pearce
Written by
Lysander 'Lice' Hardy-Pearce  41/M/East Anglia, England
(41/M/East Anglia, England)   
   Keith Wilson
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