Poem Brut #99 – Uncle Alex (Trocchi)
Alexander Trocchi has been called a deviant, a scoundrel, a genius, a monster. Semantics, words, letters organised in order to reveal a truth. He was all these things. He is, and will always be, my flesh and blood. The illustrative Cain to my Abel, something bigger and more powerful then me that will strike me down when I raise my body to match him, but I am grateful for the pairing. These poems are scales I have plucked from his Levithan hide. I have assembled them as best I can to show him as best I can. Here’s to you Alex, we’d be drinking whisky were you here but wait for me and we’ll be drinking starlight.
In the 99th of the Poem Brut series, new poetry by Aimee Keeble.