At ‘Em Like A Couple O’ Welsh Polecats by Paul Tristram

It flamed up in her eyes first,
blistering, burning animal-amber.
She belched the word “Nuh!”
like a demented battle cry
from the bowels of her furious soul
and followed it up with
“Get Your Stinking Hands Off Me!”
Shaking, from head to foot
but out of Anger not in Fear.
Sweeping her gaze from left to right,
she was in complete control
of everything & everyone within the arena.
People were either spectators or obstacles
to remove violently out of the way.
She leapt, her warrior spirit
a fraction of a second
in front of her barbarian body.
Shuddering an elbow
into the right eye socket
of the nearest adversary.
The small backpack she carried
was spinning around her head
like a thundering battering-ram
(You could hear the glass bottles inside
clinking & clanging
as she lamped with perfect aim & precision!)
Completely uncontainable
until The Landlord ripped down
one of the floor-length curtains.
After throwing it over her head,
she tumbled… unbalanced in velvet.
Where they took turns kicking her
until you could audibly hear
the snapping of her ‘Caught In A Trap’ back.

paul smoking - Copy

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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