Russell Bennetts & Rauan Klassnik

FICTION/POETRY

(Cactus in the Post)

Russell Bennetts is the founder and editor of Berfrois. His books include Relentless (2014) and Poets for Corbyn (2015). Rauan Klassnik is the author of Sky Rat (2014), Holy Land (2008) and The Moon’s Jaw (2013). Bennetts and Klassnik are the co-founders of Queen Mob’s Teahouse.


Tora Borrow dreams of cleavage drenched in snows

when pigeons mate

while Silicon Valley innovates

I cut the red wire

Pierce Brosnan

 

clubs a seal to death

in every one of his paltry dreams

$$$$ mean everything, DNA

 

lead raincoats

tongue-whistlers flipping over the pizza slice

to eat it

anything grows

 

addicted to the frisson of a public house.

 

Help Out Stamp [

7 sisters, Seven Germanys

Headbutt the day. Please.

i am becoming a girl with a cross round my neck.

i am seeing the way yr voice is a dining rabbit. I can't breathe. Plz Harvard still take me epically,

Sonata. 

 

Closed for loss

Muzak sounds better when you’re spending

Satan, O, that sounds great

red, dead

and a time to bed

 

There is a reason

Filled with salt and tacos

 

All for hire, fire

Hair, seven sins]

 

Drones Legs

Cold fish, so cold to touch burning on his underside fish don’t feel like

we don’t ever feel how can?

 

I've traveled as far as Birmingham to touch your mouth. You said my lips were thinning.

 

pausing time as green aeroplanes spiddle 

into buses

 

call me within the muddle of a sweetened

nite full of rope = hope

ya dope, fill me with iron rope

 

and drop me into oblivion

where all we do is buy buy buy

 

bitter, thy name is a strawberry dribbling down

camgirl passwords just threw me into

home             sweet             home

 

If you love the gym so much you should marry it!

Not just fucking it with such religious ardor. You cheat on him

With donuts, murder and sloth. You

Squeeze a cloth full of

that stolen strawberry suck

 

And shuck open a poison book. Look, the tale is a-

chicken curry nap running

Over all the cricket re-runs.

 

The soul puts on its pads.

 

The soul stands &evening luxury heartbeats

That's all man. A mint as you walk on out.