Some love to my paid subscribers

A new poem for you...

The (soon-to-be) Deputy Prime Minister of Poison talks to the poisoned

Yes, you are poisoned, but we are all equals.

Yes, these are the treaty grounds

but I will stand here and recount this litany of your pain by poisoning:

You are more sick, more dead, more homeless and jobless

You are imprisoned and we are equal.

Oh, yes, we are equal.


The Bishop of Breaking speaks to the broken

We are equal to the breaking of a librarian

who stands, arms out like a small saviour, on the steps.

We are equal to her frail body of soft flesh and hollow bones.

We are equal to a whole army invading a group of small children

and rainbow people hiding in the sanctuary of books.

Oh, yes, we are equal.


The Demons of Equal are loose and roaring through the land.