Below Midnight by Saira Viola

Where are they the flowers that rhumba?
The midnight moon that sonnets Shakespeare to my heart ?
I only see snake oil pussy whipped hypocrites- in bespoke -tailor made suits
and  backwash bankers playing fantasy flutes
Sunken debt  in the  poltergeist eyes of
the walking dead – you don’t ask you don’t care
there are stalking credit moles  everywhere
and penny cock jocks who’ll burn you in the mouth
Under cover red ants will  hiss and steal your house .

Saira Viola
Saira Viola is a critically acclaimed fiction ball buster , poet , song lyricist and creator of literary technique sonic scatterscript . Her work focuses on the disenfranchised , the rebels , the misfits , the marginalised and collaterally damaged who glitter the cosmos . Novels (Jukebox ) (Crack Apple And Pop) Novella (Slide ) Poetry (Don’t Shoot The Messenger) (Flowers of War) (Fast Food and Gin On The Lawn) (Rebel Mini Book of Verse) Publications (International Times), (Push), (Dead Snakes ) (Artvilla)(Red Fez) (Sick Lit) (The Poetry Times) (Crab fat) (Mother bird) (Longline Press) (Gonzo Today) (Tuck) (Dissident Voice )

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