[cw: explicit sexual references]

Figgy, Figgy Manquim and Other Poems

by Barney Ashton-Bullock

Figgy, Figgy Manquim

Dextrous omnilingus of figgy, figgy manquim

like the fizzy, kicky-kiss of insect-o-cutors in 

deft sequence dance; volt-stabby tongues 

lance to mince dee-lish such sweetmeat, coital 

‘creampie’ quince with scabbard licks 

to ruffle to dog-ears the crotchless environs

of such well-thumbed, aged, powdering keks

o’latex once so skin-fused but, so soon, 

so loose… unfurled/unloved/undone!

Sexy sup-up t’trussy slipway’s flotsam, it’s 

frothy cummucino; the conducting baton of 

prick, the spindly conducted pantograph of

akimbo legs, the short-sharp-shock circuity of

flash-flood ’gasm, the Gloriana glistening 

monstrance of decided discharge, its leakage 

from the transept of the pumped-rump ramparts 

of we workday, already forlorn, post-coitally 

forsaken, faux-braggard ‘power-bottoms’, who 

are transfigured in the balming bless of plenty, 

plenty cum from succubi supplicants whom we 

immure with the immanence of the everyman, 

the everyday, the Allhallows bellow of saint 

on each primordial enclosure.

From such primal writhe, we will rise triumphant; 

From the blitzoid bolt of such buggering blast,

We leave the till and toil of parched flatlands 

For a quenching glimpse of the rolling verdant.

mtv tattooed

Swiving, aging curs, our shags, serial 

spermatic stacks of pontoon spare parts 

grinding, well-lubed, to a spindrift gruel,

unpanted, decanted, our antennae pricks 

as uralite stanchions cankering mid-life

to a toxic mulch in the marshy march of sex,

your blurry fade of MTV tattoo says so much 

about that then ’80s new-wave youth, a Corp 

ident emboss as proof of a fledgling aspiration

flown off with the cathode Trinitrons. That 

slick, hissed, telegenic “mwah! mwah!” as, 

sated, you left of your own accord and didn’t

glance back, syn-drumming on to proverbial 

sensu-sexual pastures new, pubic green shoots putrefy 

under the weight of misdirected spendings and 

we, so fudgily aflail in our sex-life’s gloop, can’t 

gallop back to callow cool youth, so sally-on, 

sallow with, and without, many a man like you.


a feigned matey-hatred that we glibbed so well

in our bespoke, sub-glottal slaw in which we regaled

gutter-heart poets whose ashen lips were for sale

and chain-letter love notes we wrote, but, never mailed.

all fugitive eulogists 

arrested by memories never lived,

hung on clawing craws of rhetorical ‘what-ifs’,

the waiting room is to be boarded up;

the rails rust to powder,

the trackbed scuffed up 

with the saplings’ shift into new life.

and you write with your caked lip-salve

on the cracked, mottled mirror;

words scrawled and impenetrable

about lost chances incalculable, 

about your valiant waiting,

even when the first nails to rotting frames are mauled in.

light, henceforth, will slither through slits

but, still, the love of your life, you think, will find you in this,


Barney Ashton-Bullock, is the poet/librettist in the ‘Andy Bell is Torsten’ music-theatre-poetry collective and he narrates his own verse on the Downes Braide Association albums. He has poetry published, or pending publication, in a wide range of cult online poetry journals**, in the ‘Avalanches In Poetry’ tribute anthology to Leonard Cohen, in the Dreich pamphlet ‘Famous’, in the Pilot Press ‘Queer Anthology Of Healing’ and in the ‘Soho Nights’ anthologies published by The Society Club Press who also published his first collection ‘Schema/Stasis’ in 2017. His latest poetry pamphlet ‘Café Kaput!’ was published by Broken Sleep Books in 2020. Find Barney on Twitter @Barney_Poet

(**the Wellington Street Review, the New River Press Yearbook, SPAMzine, Re-Side Magazine, -algia Press, Scab Mag, Pink Plastic House Journal, Lucky Pierre Zine, Poetry Bus, Neuro Logical Magazine and the Babel Tower Notice Board)