Scott Walker
Dimple
November in July.
Eyes glistening
in darkness,
like freshly
crushed flies.
Fourteen bones
held together
by avian phlegm.
When
the whistling
has ended,
I won't stale
again.
Slurry soul.
Unbearable
clink
fraying through
tartared chink,
SongtexteTook the Dorgi,
left the dent-
frozen fast
in the
sagging night.
4/4 of silence
5/4 of shame.
When the sneezings
subsided,
I wont stare
again.
INK, A DINK A DINK-
Hej do, hej do
A DINK A DINK A
DINK A DOO.
Hej do, hej do
Jutland is crooning
narcrotic Lorilies.
Ingen...ingenting.
Ingen...ingenting.
Awaiting command,
its huge snout-
wedged between my thighs.
Ingen...ingenting.
Ingen...ingenting.
INK, A DINK A DINK
Hej do, hej do
A DINK A DINK A
DINK A DOO.
Hej do, hej do
Jutland is hvining
while stars fall in thuds,
Ingen...ingenting.
Ingen...ingenting.
flattening the cheek,
like soft muffled scuds.
Ingen...ingenting.
Ingen...ingenting.
Tongues lick
the lead Lego,
they won't be
denied.
If you're listening
to this,
you must have
survived.
My only pige
passed
your only dreng
in Jutland's
sheer city.
Farvel, farvel
November in July
Apropolis lip
to where
acid-fast
fly.
Crepey
and shiny.
guanine restrain.
While out
lifting scalp,
I will not glare again.
Took the shilling,
ditched
the score,
frozen fast
in the
lowering
night.
In the
lowering
left-testicle
night.
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