Splintered Viking Boat Song


this is not

about Ragnar, or shot

in blue celluloid (max hyperised gore)


woad doesn’t come into it

or Yorkshire graveyards / horizontal corpses


an invocation sung in Kernewek

for fishermen, misses

its point (Poseidon’s prong drips blood /

widows weep salt in paintings)


it’s not

the dirge of left-hand piano drills

(Volga’s men rolling over

calloused palms, roll over)


this is

driven song / bitumen river

solitary immigrant HOG

lantern skew / gust slap / siren eucalypt


keening for 382 fissured kilometres

1800cc / vertical



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