desperate men poetry

welcome desperate men
men who cannot love
men who love despite
whose stomachs curl around
fish in troubled water
for shallow bites
men who hunger
yet who crave
no more than to hear
a word
men whose lips
are without a kiss
men who sink
who do not float
dark minds
with a pure heart
who take the spite
of guilt and innocence
of man
in discolored resignation
welcome men
welcome
who passed this gate
men with simple thoughts
simple tables
their guts done
and men
whom no one love
men in spite
welcome

http://youtu.be/Aztulcg9ipM

Review: British Art Resistance

'Oh really?' I heard him say while frowning one eyebrow.
I looked at his obnoxious stare.
'Yes, really,' I childishly answered, not caving in an inch.
'Let's step outside!'
I punched Billy Childish in the head, where I thought he was most fragile, and yanked his pointy dandy mustache. He was sniffing from rage like a bull. What a bugger I thought. He hit me back in the gut, but I felt little, a miscalculation, he pushed me over, in an attempt to make me loose my balance, but I still stood firm. He countered quickly with a jab to the liver, that hurt. I kept Billy at a distance with a grip to his neck with my outstretched arm. I punched his nose again, he started to bleed. He yelled 'you bourgeois pig', but I had no pride and barely heard him. He tripped over his lanky legs, he was awkwardly build, not an attractive man by the average standard, although there was something common about him. This sped through my thoughts as we tumbled to the dust. I landed on top of Billy, I felt the clamor of a short breath against my cheeks, squeezed out of his lungs by his body hitting the ground flat out. I felt like two puppies rolling clumsily over the ground. Neither of us controlled our own demeanor any more, pushed and pulled by the other and by gravity working on our bodies. In the end there was no purpose of course, some by-standers pulled us apart. I was panting, while Billy kept on screaming, trying to hit me with foul words and a vulgar spirit, to which I kept my calm. I thought 'what trash' while recuperating. I never liked Billy very much, although he was gifted.