Tried
You told me not to be so bleak and cynical
i told you i had been
to Burnham-on-Sea
where hate was the new laughter
the trip back
in a taxi
steered by speedto a doorway
soaked in pissso you told me stories, of
rape
abuse
cancer
war
and that i am not so bleak and cynical
as these
to cheer me up
A letter
Dear god
not
why me
but
why
not me
my dads dad
Trying to be him
i’d taken the most obvious
and easy path
to emulate himand it took 8 years
to realise
he hadn’t been him
so easily
Dexter Selboy about Dexter Selboy
i’ve been writing some form of poetry for about 14 years now. i grew up on a slag heap called Radstock and then moved to a place where nothing happens called Bath. It’s nice here, Nothing ever happens. You can walk down the street with no shoes on and no-one will care. I’ve started using condoms as page markers. It’s as close and final as i get to romance. Originally i confined my self to rhyming, but have found a lot more comfort in formless and free poetry.