Gareth Writer-Davies

by Horror Sleaze Trash on March 15, 2013

Black eyed sue


Gareth WD is a Norse God, pale of eye and wrathful in his vengeance. But aside from that, he is a gardener based in Letchworth Garden City and is currently working on a project involving the world’s first roundabout. His blog is at and he is published here and sometimes there…




you’ve got the spanish look

-takes time to fake that-

so how come

you have the attention of the bar

and we haven’t left the airport yet


five sherry wines

a vodka chaser

in heels

but your eyes draw a taxi

to the kerb


dusk discreet

on San Salvador

as we shoot the hill-

sweet odour of grapes

through the air con



we throw coins at the driver

miss a few seconds

crossing Calle Larga


licking clean

our fingers and lips

we make hot dates for later


it’s only half past eight


waiting for the Virgin de la Mercad

we take another twenty shots

and there she is

point blank


running a finger

you unloop your stiletto

“God is Great!”


beheading a virgin

is not normal behaviour


we fashion tablecloths

to capes


in digital


regeneration at the Alcazar

still thirsty


still drop dead gorgeous


the old mosque

our last stand Osama style

as we climb minarets

and spray the city with five types of kindness





a woman pretending

to be a man

pretending to be a woman


and there she is

with biceps

in a little flowery dress



where the tits are falling out of bras

the lipstick is smeared

and it’s a beautiful mess


pulling back the lens

the ruined dream

of a city defined

by the consumption of itself

is shouting at strangers


black eyed susan


crying into the barbeque

hating the flamingos

at the Diner stop


once a charming child

she never grew out

of her tomboy look


but doing her best

she’s pleasing a man

who listens well

and who’d make a lousy bridesmaid


all the way to the top

a woman made a man made a woman
and fucked her good





My brain is twice as big

The sugar cane I snapped

Is giving me hits

I need a shit in the woods


The market square was a rage

I trod in something that crunched


I don’t know what I’ve done

I had rain in my head then burning heat

I have no liability


There is a man walking up to me

Reluctant sparrows in his eyes

I am worth more than any damn coolie


I’ve taken life

And now I leave it

An old grinning beast

Pissed in the sun




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