Never Again, Sir by Paul Tristram

Your use of the word FUCK continually
shows your lack of intellect.
Your insistence in dragging the reader
into the horrible depths of drug addiction
reveals only too clearly
a. You glorify vocally, stubbornly and blindly
from the childish pit you have fallen into.
b. You desperately want to return to the
afore mentioned childish pit.
c. You mistakenly think that you have arrived
at the place where poets finally arrive
coughing up gold, diamonds and other such
precious ornaments.
But it is obvious to everyone but yourself
that you have not.
Alcoholism is a disgusting pre-occupation
you share with millions,
we could all travel down this road.
In college I myself drank about 6 pints
of stout a month,
you are not clever or special.
As for sex, well where shall I start?
your daydreams run riot Mr Tristram.
The act of love making you soil
with your talk of prostitutes, bi-sexual au pairs
and Prozac steadied (Whatever this means?)
council estate sluts.
These topics put to ruin and decay the imagery
and thoughtfulness that make up a poem
of the standard that anyone with common sense
would want to read and take seriously.
Please never darken my letterbox
with this vulgar tripe again.
Good Day, Sir.
I M Wright.

paul bodmin jail

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) ‘Poetry From The Nearest Barstool’ at And a split poetry book ‘The Raven And The Vagabond Heart’ with Bethany W Pope at You can also read his poems and stories here!

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