I found some more old stuff for your delectation. One of these poems was actually published. Imagine that. Apologies for the rough language*, but I'm a foul sort.
*I changed two words to avoid offence.
Your dog shat on my lawn, I watched from bedroom window.
Its orgasmic grimace, tight muzzle, thin hot eyes, tail erect and quivering.
Nothing accidental about this shit.
I saw you stand at pavement edge of lawn.
A cigarette edged to your mouth
Smoke curled to the apathetic sky and my fingers itched
For an Uzi, I could shoot your face through my window and
Kill you much faster than lung cancer.
Put you to sleep.
Put you down.
You directed your dog central to my lawn, I watched.
A mouth pointing, a finger instructing, a cold sneer of command (but cigarette undisturbed).
If my grass were a dartboard, this dogshit would hit
Dead centre, red eye, 50 points.
My grudging respect for command of animal is all you score.
I watch your face, like dog, intense.
You keep a head in a fridge
Like Patrick Bateman*.
Stubble on your upper lip.
A proud rugger shirt.
And racism as easy
As a baby cries.
Venom to a snake.
You drink Vodka Martini
Because you think it sophisticated.
You have both the hair and accent of a bastard.
You rattlesnake snore and boast of violence
Against animals and the homeless.
In March, you left me in Kettering.
Without money or car.
And you said ‘fuck’ in front of my Gran.
Your eyes are hot
And your thighs wide.
But I love your mouth.