The Sex Tourist

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

His urges worked to remove him
for a month to another place,
to lie with girls in hotel rooms,
face down in their paid-up disgrace..


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Ballon

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Your beauty is to float
above his weight of hate,
it's how you deal with love,
dealt in your practiced way..


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The Ghost

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

We are sat drinking
'Old Speckled Hen',
out of cooled tins
in the summer's cold rain..


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Tales

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

This crumbling man
has let you down,
with shortened pulls
of heavy breaths..


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That Nice Man

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Jacob Rees-Mog
is a dangerous man,
playing the gent
to fool your Gran..


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Demulcent

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Here her brushed skin rises
over her freckled shoulders,
and then slopes away to meet
her curved spine's cobbled path...


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Rock Pools

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

In these recharged times
of eye-sucking screens
the two boys still felt
the pull to cold rock pools..


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Exeter St Davids (sic)

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Is there nothing more
depressingly British
than pacing wet stretches
of railway platforms?..


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Static

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

The curtains swing,
lifting in and out
of the single-glazed
breeze-wide windows..


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On the Beach

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

She inserted pink earbuds
whilst lain out on the beach,
a solution to drown seagulls,
and other such wild screeches..


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