Craig Podmore

Prostitution and Ham Burgers

‘Call me’ eyes and bloodied knives

Nipple tassels and raped swine

Gandhi mortems and hellion cries

Mayonnaise on French fries

And rotten cribs and gods in disguise

Liposuction and gunshot wound smiles

For the cameras and limousine misanthropes

And confessional coprophiles

And they get in line and play dead

And drink agnostic blood and transgender Nazis

And Josef Fritzl and the daily dosage

Of Schrodinger’s cat and missing persons

And star crossed lovers and satanic sermons

And the rage…

The rage is what’s intrinsically true.

Knifepoint

The pigs are slaughtered for your arousal.

Penetration is prohibited unless

It is to draw blood.

It feeds the machine a whole lot better that way.

We’re succumbed to satisfaction via lunacy.

Subconsciously.

Pre-meditated.

Masturbatory heresy worshipped

In ink and television whilst

Unaware of the suffocating fear.

Flesh emaciated.

Infected.

The pupils dilate at knifepoint.

A nude with death,

Copulation permitted

If one accepts the ecstasy of nothing.

Pariah

The Third Reich sex, introvert complex, death of eyes

And crapulous civil ideas restrict the true freedom

Of the peoples, beguiled by the plasticising nature

Of suburbia, the banal is preferred, the comfortable orgasm

In silence…

In carnal shadows of laughter; guts spill onto lawn, criminal externalism

Embraced, exonerated! Rational thought decomposes, morality severs into the ether, law decays as it never was, a fractured spine desecrated by the foul

Truth of man that is nothing but an attractive beast.  

The body is a tool of pleasure, a vehicle of cruelty and 

Sublime divinity.

The soul, the force, the ecstasy, the orgy, the consumer

Of all things soiled and blasphemous but what is of virtue?

An ideal infused by the insidious mob of rule, the creator of gods

And values, it smells of flies’ hunger for cadavers yet, the hands

That are against such imbecilic reigns salutes the vice, the 

Renegade f spirit,

The fucker of death!

Criminality is wise but to obey is to be objectified; personification

Of a catharsis, an aborted frontal lobe, a psychosis, prognosis of,

Charlatan abnormalities, chrysalis weeps before it opens to life, void of norms and regulations, conscience derivative of social construct, growth within, like cancer, guilt is words from a book of prayer and a television.

Such madness is subjugation, especially that of a prison

One cannot even see!

Swine

We are meat that hangs without a balance in the laws of nature:

The antithesis to oxygen,

A primal urge of killing

Governed by plastic desires

That lead to nowhere but

The carnage of the one true self.

 Viral

…We unto the carnivorous voids of videotapes that exhibit

molestation…rapacious felons of debauchery designed this Dis

to corporate sexual organs into working order; forces of fear,

rage and vast despondency…consuming naked women in the

high streets, jugulars full of fresh blood, this mass séance of vampires interceding, interloping and meshing into one grand ball of

a distorted apparatus, faces, bones, skulls, breasts, penises, nipples,

pubic hair, anuses, vaginal glands pervade the malls all as one organism, like a virus, like a cell disturbed amidst a river of nothing, this mutation is the redeemer of the capitalist, the executioner of this empire…