The Monsters We Became or Fell For

HE
was a gentleman tyrant who lived for his family—
even the bastard he was forced to raise.

YOU
could have taken on the world with her by your side
yet still you were discarded—the reek of your weakness
doubtless overwhelming—and witnessing the pain she had
caused only seemed to strengthen her resolve.

I
have always looked out for that neurotic wreck so it’s
a crying shame that he would rather lick his wounds in a
town he despises than spend summer chasing fresh foreign
flesh with his brother. more for me then, I suppose.

THIS
is a filthy narrative, a muddled confessional, a hate crime of
passion; it is a darkly comic, unapologetically bitter account
of the strange lands and duties whose first lesson for this
new century was that the sins of the old are not forgotten.

THIS
is a drunken dance between the hazards of a twisted Britain
and a rose-tinted Denmark built with madness in mind—a place
Englishmen needn’t bring any demons of their own for there are
crawling things enough, and crawl they will, ever closer.

THIS
is the tale of an island, two cities and
the monsters we became or fell for.

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