Gareth Writer-Davies

by Horror Sleaze Trash on May 7, 2012

Ageing lothario seeking new kicks in poetic evil deeds-or would if he wasn’t such a mummy’s boy. Based north of London, south of Leicester, west of a bloody cold wind.


I am in hospital
bruises on my arm
attached to a drip

I don’t remember
I was in bed

I was dreaming a fine dream
there was a lass
toting a tommy gun
she didn’t have much on
and the baddie
was begging for his brother’s life
he had scars

I got up for a pee
smoked a fag
let the dog out
went back to bed
it was nippy

I am in hospital
a drip in my arm
I have stubble
there are bruises on my arm
mother has flowers

I get up for a pee
smoke a fag
let the dog back in
cook bacon
go back to bed

in my dream
it is night
and I have a blade
I am walking ten paces behind
she doesn’t have much on
she shouts
her brother knows me
and I should piss off home

I am in hospital
I have bruises on my arms
and scabs
between my toes
the bed is slippy

I am dreaming
green caterpillars
chewing easy through my brain
I am bare
I feel clean
my brother is my best friend
I am learning

I am in hospital
bruises on my arms
scabs between my toes
not yet ready
to go home


I knew I’d done something wrong
my easy going brain
was stuck and idle

were full of the hiss
of everything I didn’t know

my girlfriend
was uptight like a pearl
the voice of an answerphone

so many of her secrets
I wish she hadn’t told me

crossing the street
I would close my eyes
expecting to be hit

something terminal
would have been a relief

ten years later
my easy going brain
was doing hard labour

full of people
I didn’t want to know

my wife
was uptight like a pearl
she was making advances

so many of her secrets
I wish she hadn’t told me
too late for that

I picked arguments in pubs
I wanted to be hit

I was becoming
the well known character

I’ve been a good listener
listened to a barrowload
troubles shared
weigh me down

it’s always the same secret
and I am dumb

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