A Whiter House

Imagine there’s a painting

adorning the wall of some president’s master bedroom. It hangs beneath a mirrored ceiling where his wife (lucky her) gets to watch his pumping arse wobble like a pale hairy jelly.

Let’s say it sits above a dozen nicotine silver wigs on a perfect chesterfield dresser, and maybe it gazes down, in lurid grey and gold:

a grinning Adolf Hitler

riding a merry go round of charging marble stallions, one leather glove tightly gripping the reigns the other waving at scores of muscular blonde women and heroic dead eyed men with lantern jaws.

Let’s just say this now and get it out in the open, before it’s too late.



Image Credits: Luna Jubilee

Oliver Stansfield

Oliver Stansfield but friends call me Oli. I love writing, being read and road trips... When I’m not writing poetry it’s because I’m teaching high school English which tends to consume my mind during term-time. The best advice I’ve ever received about writing was ‘don’t use fifteen words when eight will do’... So far I have been lucky enough to be published online in ‘Red Fez’ , ‘Gutter Eloquence’, ‘Horror Sleaze Trash’ and on paper in ‘These Human Shores volume 2’.

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One thought on “A Whiter House

  • January 10, 2018 at 10:24 am

    Wow Oliver, this surprised me. I hate to use the word because it’s overused/misused but this is surreal. It made me stop and wonder and think.


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