‘O my townspeople!’ —


All Love does is unearth these things that are Verboten


A gun in a velvet Glove that went off in your hands

And with piss and shit and sweat and blood we

Continue, click, c-lick, cli-ck:

You remember what it is, when it washes through you like a  c  i  d,

Challenging you to contain your poisons.

T h e r e ‘s nothing to write: why would there be

When life is lived on the battered cuffs of torn manilla envelopes

and I keep looking at something


like if I look at it long enough

looong enough


it will reveal the secret of life?

Oh. Babe.  Why did it take you so long? 

There’s no secret here. 

Just keeping digging with your elfin f i n g e r s

and everyone will lo ve you just fine.

Just keep on with the fingers

and you’ll be fine.

you’re the one

that has to make the m oo v e

didn’t they teach you that in school // didn’t it p r ooo v e

itself as you smoked out the edges of your voice to make it s m oo oo t h

but then you’re back there with a crush you can’t d i s s o l v e

all a l oooo f hissing like a

Solpadeine Max in a goblet

Oh, I’ve stood in the storied, candied splendour of the copper hair

I found in the vacuum cleaner, you left it for me

Like a wreath of gold

‘O my townspeople!’


Out with the window

Out with the crushing Fall

and the leaves, now

as crisped as Islington bruschetta

on their way

to the f l ooo r

I can’t b r r e a t h e no more


Published by gurdeepmattu

I’m an author and publisher. I live and work in London and am the author of “Sons and Fascination” (2011, Paperbooks). It's available here:

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: