Sunday 14 December 2014

Games

Dense ropes from the ceiling are evil.
Are we small? There are teacher monsters
in thick alien cotton. Pervert hair curls.
Mouth in a beard. Our thin flammable shirts.
English mud sticks fast. Hidden hollow
of the goals where my boy heart echoes.
Give nothing. Let Caesar's tight old bladder
past the post. Sisyphean medicine ball.
Shin kicks and bastard jabs. Walls
are chromatic ills are rock. Porno slits.
All the dick glitter tucked in. Be delicate.
Breathe badly. Empty face. Be ever the last
in the line to be called.  Fit for nothing.

2 comments:

  1. The traditional educational-system routine valorization of the robust and the hearty, that euphoric and glorious lie of the bloody and bruised hero who ne'er complains, a mythology constructed by the powerful for the purpose of the perpetuation of power, achieved through regimentation, discipline, organization and ritual shaming, when imposed upon those unfit or unwilling, must surely constitute one of the defining characteristics of the "classical" fascist society.

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  2. In the scheme of things, I got away lightly. Tales of contemporaries from other schools make the skin crawl.

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