Neil Fulwood Smiles the Caprophagous Grin at the Man Behind the Man

Peril

A much-loved cliché

from scratchy two-reelers

of the silent era:

the villain (moustache

extravagantly twirled)

ties the girl to the tracks,

gloats as the express

(gouts of smoke, cow-

catcher prominent) comes

hurtling nearer and nearer.

Fumes as the hero (clean

cut, good teeth) pulls off

the last minute appearance,

doles out the justified

smack in the mouth, gets

the girl and doesn’t even

delay the express. Now

imagine yourself

as the damsel in distress.

The railroad tracks

are your mortgage

and your student debt,

the length of rope

the job you’re told

you’re lucky to have;

the train is the bank

and its carriages are full

of the fat and odious cigars

of those who are fatter

and more odious still.

The villain? He’s president,

prime minister, royalty

and clergy; he’s there

in the bushes, lurking, excited,

his caprophagous grin

untroubled by a justified fist.

Snake Oil

     All governments are lying cocksuckers. – BILL HICKS

All governments are salesmen,

all governments have sample cases

full of snake oil and scotch mist.

All governments are telesales callers,

all governments want to keep you on the line

while they take your details, run a few checks.

All governments are door-knockers,

all governments shove their shiny shoes

between door and jamb. Or use a battering ram.

All governments are a red dot, a telescopic lens,

all governments are the man behind the man,

the voice in the earpiece that gives the order.

Neil Fulwood was born in Nottingham, UK, in 1972. He's the author of film studies book The Films of Sam Peckinpah. His poetry has appeared in The Morning Star, Art Decades, The Blue Hour, The Ofi Press, Section 8 and Rat's Ass Review. Neil is married, holds down a day job and subsidizes several real ale pubs. He enjoys cinema, a wide variety of music, and making abusive comments about the government on social media.