Poems by
Kevin Hylands

Leather and Lenses or A Visigoth’s Parable

a poem by Kevin Hylands

“Mother, MOTHER! The plethora-dogma stoat man hath arrived”
Said the beast of toxic mustard from the North
“Put him in the back room and call him Cyril and quickly or I’ll brim”
Said the stout blame-suffuser who once called Ruth Madoc ‘A Vast Haddock’.

Choose
The
Earnest
Television
Bum-doctor
Or
I
Shall
Have
No
Other
Option
But
To
Steal
From
Field mice

Crewe-filth Steven, you crave dark things in light entertainment
but watch for smells and bells and reprehensible
Hells spent with people called Uncle Mario.
I sail towards your vastness on a vehicle
made entirely of used linoleum, dog urine and the sand
from the toes of people such as Diss, Day and of course Cheaseman.

Do
Not
Go
Gentle
Into
That
Big
Shite
Or
The
Voles
And
Dog-moles
Will
Pester
Some
Broadcasters.