Ghost Ship

after A E Dyson

The decline of vaudeville was assured by Frank
Byron Jr. failing to learn how to release a garrotte
paving the way for Leisure Suit Larry's Amiga
Pos Party plus re-runs of Toby the rabbit
lashed to a Megger / two w(hi-ten)iggers
rip little La'Quaysha's arms off in the
chalk circle her biological mother-
fucker smacked-up in the stocks & flex
my Bolt arms sluice the pleasant fatigue
from a century spent holding me up in the
missionary threshing my A-level
factory girl, angels in the hair net
adamant the Merlot had a hint of Christmas
cutting her leg in the bath, the water
unravelling her hankie-trick blood
and she A+ couldn't care less
an A blood type means you can't eat meat
O the trivia one overhears in The Highgate
: 80% of people eat bugs scorpions beetles
that sorta thing / reeks of
bats in the belfry with
their Dragunov shrill as
Dr Strangelove's howdja like me now / is
the time to ::en1arge your manh00d::
major poet : neither movement nor maverick
turn for Him and commend your shabby ghost
to shamble the dogging halls of enseamèd books
before the last time the landing
light welds the Here's
Johnny!-proof peg in the burning hole.