Ant Smith

Anger

Primordial Scum

This room's rising damp tide line

Reminds you of the bad times

Wading in shit with your

Shoulders in the sunshine

Everything dry is

Wet underneath

It's the moist and the damp

That brings you relief

You primordial scum

You petty little thief

You can't expect to

Be forgiven by me

The odour of wet paint

Masks the smell of your old ways

The stink in your house

Is the stink of mass graves

Everything that's sweet

Has a stench and has a reek

It's the dark fetid places

That send you sound to sleep

You primordial scum

You petty little thief

You can't expect to

Be forgiven by me

In the dark corners

Black fungal mould will grow

Spreading like the hairs on

Your fingers and your toes

Everything is viral

A swiftly spreading sore

You are at your happiest

At its weeping open core

You primordial scum

You petty little thief

You can't expect to

Be forgiven by me

Anger