Bed-blocking King Duncan’s lifeless form

Kisses his lips sweaty T-shirts

Like a dandy rabbit this man once more.

 

What chance have we under the Dunelm Duvet

 

Goyt and Tame together plan the hit

on Lady of the North with a poker and coal scuttle

To remove the thorn from the flesh

of the knuckled finger-splitting hand

 

In a white blank room the die hard

poets read of paranormal sinners and

the thoughts of a darker mind.