Inspired by Sid Vicious.
Stare!
stare at me.
I am hazardous hair
shockingly styled,
artistic anarchy,
fashion defiled.
A putrid purple
erectile protrusion,
a cerebral carpet
on skull of stubble.
Wince!
wince at me.
I am follicles fused,
graffiti-can lacquer,
needle pine spikes
pierce decade of doom.
Lancing of lobes,
rusting blunt pins,
abuse of skin viewed
in gallery of pain.
Jeer!
jeer at me.
I am Kohl application
in layers of sludge,
liquorice laces
on insipid lids.
Wire thin legs hang,
dangle from pelvis,
bandaged in leather
and tourniquet tight.
Believe!
believe in me.
I am royalty ransacked,
futile flag,
shredded rags
draped over pallid persona.
Chaotic gig,
spewing slurs,
bouncing in pools
of spittle and vomit.
Listen!
listen to me.
I am link over link,
jangling chains
curving the spine,
elderly stance.
Deafening decibels
lyrics disputed,
voice of disturbance
appalled but absorbed.
I am your son!
© Ellen Johns
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