Gareth Durasow

Fire Ship

John Wick mows the grass upwind of a FU-
BAR op to dynamite the Thatcherite sneer
chiselled on a China coal face    this is no E-
aster egg hunt    get Billy to the chopper
but for minor wounds Marabunta
has mandibles sufficient to seize the flesh
tear it off at the thorax    hey presto
you've fashioned yourself a nifty suture.

              Tell your troops to
              follow the headless
              ants // by all means
              call me Duracell //
burn incense in the slaughter
house where gods disrobe
the world for gokkun
weighing their penises on a colossal
scale that Achilles (carrying home in his mouth
the Jack / knifing torsos of Troy) recalibrated
so a droplet of cum crashing into the pan
could raise a war / ship from the waves of face-
ache Paris's blood-clotted 'fro.
I thought you'd been shot thru the back of the neck
when I saw the mess in the sink / Rossana Podestà with
her gangly familiar    blasting the snails
to rubble & slag. The miniature AT-AT
                        would lap at her tears
                        had it a tongue
                        this is no Easter egg hunt
                        soap opera / sticky probe
Razim Buhic gets a send-off
every piece we "find"/ a craftsman
turned /    shot    mowing the grass
John Wick faces up    how little he went to war
thinks    I don't know how it feels to fall
by God he's done it now. Tonight Matthew
                        I'm going to be
David Peace // on Marat's sinew
water like crystal teats
the litter-picker drops a biopsy
into his menagerie of phlegm
takes time to spit inside the cordon
in coffee rings Marat contrived on his call
footnote legerdemain instructing us

                        tomber la bombe
                        exterminez eux tous!