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A performance piece by William the Bloody (awful poet). As first (and last) performed in LA, after five pints, three shots and a bag of pork scratchings.
The alley lights were dim
My eyes were wet
Spurned by my lady-love
I could not forget
Her scornful lips
Her harsh regard
I thought my lot in life was cruel and hard
But then a girl with shining eyes
Accosted me beneath a lamp
She whispered pretty flatteries
Then with her feral teeth did clamp
My maid-like neck
I was her bride
And in a dirty alleyway I died
Awaking, all the world was new
A fresh thrill filled my veins
But one thing from my old life still
Did tug like Zeus at my fate's twisted skeins
My mother
Oh my mother dear
To leave her dying, of that I would not hear
So I went to my old hearth and home
I took my love so free
She was not pleased when I explained
I wished to make my mum like me
But I insisted
Bit my mother's neck
To save her from her body's mortal wreck
Alas! Her waking did not match
My dream of what would be
Her eyes were full of hate and scorn
And thus she spake to me:
"My son you are a parasite
That slithered from my womb."
At that I wished that I was truly dead and peaceful in my tomb.
But worse was yet to come to me
She clasped me in her arms
And coaxed me with her harlot's voice
"Come, Son, enjoy my charms!"
I cried in horror
How could this be?
That my mother wished to rut with me?
And so I staked my wicked mare
Although I loved her so
It was not her, I told myself
And yet I felt laid low
My new dead love
Did comfort me
As softly as she could
But never would I know again
The love of someone good.
The alley lights were dim
My eyes were wet
Spurned by my lady-love
I could not forget
Her scornful lips
Her harsh regard
I thought my lot in life was cruel and hard
But then a girl with shining eyes
Accosted me beneath a lamp
She whispered pretty flatteries
Then with her feral teeth did clamp
My maid-like neck
I was her bride
And in a dirty alleyway I died
Awaking, all the world was new
A fresh thrill filled my veins
But one thing from my old life still
Did tug like Zeus at my fate's twisted skeins
My mother
Oh my mother dear
To leave her dying, of that I would not hear
So I went to my old hearth and home
I took my love so free
She was not pleased when I explained
I wished to make my mum like me
But I insisted
Bit my mother's neck
To save her from her body's mortal wreck
Alas! Her waking did not match
My dream of what would be
Her eyes were full of hate and scorn
And thus she spake to me:
"My son you are a parasite
That slithered from my womb."
At that I wished that I was truly dead and peaceful in my tomb.
But worse was yet to come to me
She clasped me in her arms
And coaxed me with her harlot's voice
"Come, Son, enjoy my charms!"
I cried in horror
How could this be?
That my mother wished to rut with me?
And so I staked my wicked mare
Although I loved her so
It was not her, I told myself
And yet I felt laid low
My new dead love
Did comfort me
As softly as she could
But never would I know again
The love of someone good.
