Poetry

song lyrics & minor poems

As a boy, I never liked buffoons

The Buffoon’s been visiting me for most of my nights
…What’s left of me? – Wires in my veins to hold me upright

‘Tis in his presence that I write now –
– Is it you talking, or the beast?
… – Just me, quilling the débris
and how I got eaten on a feast

‘Twas in the small hours that I sighed:
“The absorbing powers of human touch I fancy”
…but somewhat dreaded a response –
“No-one likes you, nancy!”

The freaks attacked and tied my limbs,
while a dwarf s(h)at himself on my chest
This sound, the clack of his over-sized shoes,
always precedes my failure to his test

“I am the unhappy memories of your childhood
The dwarf paralysed you in your sleep
Your test, to witness and quill this feast,
to prove your manliness and not to weep”

A guitar, consisting of veins, led in;
A piano formed out of teeth… –
Then drums, out of stretched skin
and bones to hammer them with

Even destitute of the hideous growls and laps of the tongue,
rest assured, humans, this cannibal music is a bringer of tears
I simply can’t defend myself against my own traumas;
The Buffoon’s been gorging himself on me over many years