The slack-jawed captain,
who thought he could quell
an ancient mutiny
by a simple crew majority.
Then calmly walked towards
the last lifeboat.
The fortune-teller,
whose ball was sharp
Swaroski crystal.
Who’d let you cross her palm,
but not her papers.
The beckoning barker
like a weightless moon
(all tide and no gravity)
daubing gaudy promises
on the wagon walls.
The People’s Medium
tapping glasses and calling time,
unleashing bulldog spirits
to piss on their territory.
They should all be ashamed
and yet they boast;
“We lied about the Mermaid’s Ghost”.
Chris Hemingway is a poet and songwriter from Gloucestershire. He has previously self-published a collection of lyrics & poetry, Cigarettes and Daffodils, and The Future, a novel about extra-terrestrial management consultants, and his pamphlet Party in the Diaryhouse was published by Picaroon Poetry in 2018. Chris helps with the organisation of Cheltenham Poetry Festival, the Gloucestershire Writer’s Network, New Bohemians @Charlton Kings and the Squiffy Gnu Facebook/ WordPress Poetry Prompt Group.
Lonesome October Lit 