Poetry

John Whitworth: Three poems

Angry Penguin For Ern Malley, many of whose haunting lines are here incorporated   In the twentyfifth year of my age I find myself to be a dromedary. Loose-lipped, imperious, I stalk my cage In the twentyfifth year of my age, My bardbrow beetles as I swell with rage, Robber of dead men’s dreams whose eyes are scary, In the twentyfifth year of my age, I hubble-bubble like a bloody Mary.   I hubble-bubble, the black swan of trespass Where urchins pick their noses in the sun. Mad monks incontinently chant their vespers, I hubble-bubble, the black swan of trespass…

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