Perfect Skin

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

This skin on my foot
is turning to cratered scales -

like that of F's
re-homed grandpa... /


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Into Candles and Soap

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Inhale those odours within
la Ville Lumière - of corpse wax

found among her exhumed
Draw on le cimetière des Innocents .../


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Utter

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I have always suffered
a mild clumsiness -
just now - trying to read
that line back - aloud -
it got rooted in my mouth .../


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#Saifullah & Son

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

Six hundred and fifty
now reduced to forty -
there the forgotten
forever prisoners .../


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Inside My Lover

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

I am entertained inside her lento lungs -
travelling alone and partly dusk-blind -
within her low suck of cooling breath .../


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This Parish

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

We stick to the leaf-kicked route -
a parting of the dry sea of leaves
cleared by dog-following boots .../


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Repose

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

The granite markers have tipped forward -
angled over the settling of in-filled earth
where the boxes and bones collapsed -
the stones remain whilst other things fall .../


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Self Portrait

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

My naked body would look worse
only if crucified on Bacon's canvas .../


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The Fly

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

The fly hummed her old song of death
as she jacked in the room's still air
in a quickened patrol overhead
of absurd dashes and acrobatics .../


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The Tin Roof

By Mike Bell Poetry No comments

The tin top cottages
should be haunted

but the only ghost
is Hoogstraten's ...


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