Hullabalooing can tip you
A wrung throat.
The misfit scandal
Froths its venom,
Animated in the public spirit.
Clinching frowns of fortune
We did not self-govern
These disgraced clientships.
We’re meat in the web
Hissing dissent with daylight voices,
To make the seamless machine
A losing game.
Vote – Don’t Vote
A vinegar aspect gimcrack – The Murdoch’s fishiness
Grates to a prompt-memory hammer out
(Knock-to-atoms lives, a populous).
First-fruits we glimmer,
The prescription, divide-and-rule dogma.
Our soft hearts, trollops as they are,
Go up for tender cash. Ding-dong.
The hymn of hate echo – get off, corpse
On your own misjudgement.
In 1998 Christopher Barnes won a Northern Arts writers award. In July 200 he read at Waterstones bookshop to promote the anthology 'Titles Are Bitches'. Christmas 2001 he debuted at Newcastle 's famous Morden Tower doing a reading of my poems. Each year he reads for Proudwords lesbian and gay writing festival and he partakes in workshops. 2005 saw the publication of his collection LOVEBITES published by Chanticleer Press, 6/1 Jamaica Mews, Edinburgh.