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Mike Philbin

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I wanna, Livinia
by Mike Philbin

Friday, October 06, 2006
Rated "PG13" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Mike Philbin
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this is more a fun exercise in linguistic patterns than a serious attempt to create something with form, and function

101 lines of nostalgia



I wanna live in a world full of silent witnesses

 a cryogenic world, faces pressed up against frosted glass for eternity

 a twisted, crippled sentence world, a lamb slaughter of impunity

 a loving world made of cheesy grins and lessons in deceit

 a heterosexual world – full of lesbians

 a labia mine crammed with second-hand sex toys world

 a sinister world of pain, wrestled into a knot by school mistresses

 a dancing world, a changing chancing sly round-the-back world

 a late night luxury chocolate gateau world

 a wordless world where magic matters and life is sharp like a needle


I wanna live in a space world made of living chrome paintings that cry human tears

 a lost world where I will never find truth

 a spaceship world in the middle of the crash desert, epidermiscorched

 a paper aeroplane world flying down the storm drain

 a roundabout world orbited by shuddering ice cream vans

 a patchwork world, lost for choice

 a sewer world, a fewer world, a newer world of cerebral horror bats

 a test tube world with my dead twin placentaing all round me

 a verbless, internet world of instant gratification – no living pronouns


I wanna live in a foster world, borrowed from a widow of shadows

 a carpet flavoured world, a spiral staircase surrogate world

 a dirty razor blade bathtub ring world

 a world with no name and no way to be born

 a typeset world in Cyrillic, million point, embossed

 a permanently engaged world, a mobile phone bashed world

 a saucer of milk world of cat’s cream smiles and furballs

 a long back alley cobbled to death by meteors in August world

 a constantly dancing siren of light world

 a leper world, a collector world, a colloquial world of sores


I wanna live in a purple world of proverbs

 a lecturing world to a sea of blank faces

 a tortoise shell world broken open by adrenaline stinking natives

 a Go-Go world, a big fat titty wiggling ripped back foreskin world

 a steady world of nine pm to five am murder in the dark world

 a motorway world, six lanes of death wish 2001

 a movie world, randomly edited to mirror the weather

 a complex world of digital crime, numbers are my friends

 a corporate suicide world – don’t take any prisoners, now

 a saucy naughty raunchy haunchy paunchy world in the country


I wanna live in the country, period


I wanna live in a world where you are dead and your kids are real tall

 a fan based world drawn together by signatures stretching to infinity

 a copious flagons of lurid copy world, drunk on prose booze

 a world outside of the world, just off-off world, not lost, not there

 a child hammered to death by a strange man I met in a bar world

 a world of 24-7 news reports – mundane bliss of fish underfoot

 a congested world of someone’s obituary

 a rank old diary of poems, pages the colour of porridge

 a violent, silent, soylent green, blue pink eater world of wells


I wanna live in a miniature world of toy aeroplanes underfoot

 a kid’s world where you never grow beards and your ears never wax

 a seaside world of totem poles, pole dancers entertaining hole 19

 a chocolate egg broken by a fist world

 a world of sushi eating your face from the plate

 a world skewered by chopsticks – a poignant reminder world

 a lost logo world – what is our identity without graphics

 a saucer shaped world, buzzing middle America for kicks

 a lesson learnt world where consequence and permanent fittings help

 a fugitive world stripped of lenses


I wanna live in a late night lady friends sobbing on the phone world

 a lesbian world full of heterosexual puppies

 a couple eating each others feet on live TV world

 a comfy chair of sorrow world, a nonsense of cherished ego world

 a beagle world, tested to death in many different and inviting ways

 a heap in the corner, stinking of vomit and nicotine patches

 a methodone for everyone, except the polite ones world

 a floating breasts for the sharks world

 a carrot from the ground denouncing all slugs and maggots and lice

 a terrible world, but that will never happen


I wanna live in a synthetic tits world paid for by rent boy armies donating charitably

 a daily world of obesity reports on cable channel

 a vomit world

 a comet world

 a come up and see my vagina lips, suck my phallus for money world

 a polite butcher thin slicing loin rashers from the neighbours world

 a coach stalled on the train tracks world

 a world of nothing new, change the record, fella

 a fetish world of fantasy and fashion, incarnate latex nose clippers

 a pervert, skin tugging his nipples with a Chinese silk hook world


I wanna live in a bad world, you know, terrible architecture, I-beams rule the roost

 a speedboat carving slices of brainmeat for waves world

 a handholding, teasing, full frontal interview world of abstraction

 a real world, flapping flesh from dusk till dawn, sauce eaters united

 a gogo world, fat men and women lost in lust

 a gogo world, stuck on a rocking boat, laughing at your belly

 a throat razor, hair shaver, meat pie filler, dramatic actor world of id

 a textureless, 50 frames a second on PAL world

 a frameless world, just glass embe dded in the cheekbones like you

 a your eyes


I wanna live in your mind, summer vacations of dull weather and fetish fashion

 a world full of autopsy

 a silk shirt opened by a knickerless woman world, on my back

 a bed of nails world, five ton elephant on  my chest

 a prostrate cancer menu world of delightful charity

 a world free of lice

 a locust storm coming your way

 a your back alley all night, eating my chips with my fingers

 a back yard of a serial killer playing his piano world of keys

 a lazy world in the sunspot heat of interrogation


I wanna live in Jamaica, lying back, and thinking of England….

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Reviewed by Aberjhani 10/7/2006
I would say this "exercise in linguistic patterns," with its short powerful blasts of cynical irony and satire, succeeded quite well Mr. Philbin. Thank you for the treat. Always enjoy your work.

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