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2 empty pipes rattling with passion


by Penny Goring


you were in a wheelchair in a courtroom

juddering vibrating

pipes rattling so loud

empty pipes rattling with passion 

they threw you into my cell 

to teach all madness a lesson 

irate and shaking you were shouting 

with passion

your wheelchair could not contain you

i took you down longhand

on the table over there

i took you into my arms

we fled down corridors with a posse of escapees 

we unlocked gates and got gone 

sane relaxed women 

with bleach-nurtured quiffs

were urging each other to save me

from the hell bent cripple behind me

crying out he'd been abused

i would rather 

take under-age swamp boys 

those teens tortured by their own eyes 

i could make swamp boys believe

under dust-sheets stiffened by ice

i could make sweet smells with 

my lunatic fingers

and i will 

until i reach the melting ice-rink

filthy slush shovelled by you

i believe only in swamp boys 

i believe in my sense of smell 

i trust in the grief of the night 

became a rattle in the 2

empty pipes in my cell

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