A Malediction

(After Peter Didsbury)


Melt of a diseased pig,

May you be sautéed and eaten

By an idiot television-chef,

May gravity reject you

And hurl you into vacuum,

Your entrails streaked across the blackness,

Dripping there like an obscene

Visceral firework.

May your brain condense to brittle shite,

Rattling in your eyeless skull,

And may the final cigarette you suck

Continue burning past the filter,

Catch your lips,

Combust you whole, spontaneously,

And may your remains then be photographed

And printed on packets of twenty.


John McChrystal