Proper: poem

Projecting light on her face

she stood at the head of the desks

the top of the room

Announced the theme

of Greeks and their poetry

of performance, painting and philosophy

I strained to enlighten myself

But was declined from high society

by mouth


Got caught up in her ‘O’s drawn out

from her throat like sucked string

Slipped over the surplus of ‘R’s

added in after giving over to gluttony

An ‘R’ must follow an ‘A’

‘drarmartic’, ‘clarssic’, she’s overdosed on arsenic

licks verbal diarrhea onto

white marble as she speaks

Not learnt to laugh in her pauses

not trained to smile in her speech


I keep my home in my mouth

chewing on words, each

syllable less important than the last but


I think the way we speak’s perfect

top notch, bloody brilliant, first class




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