Crotchless socks
The candle stole the night
The smell of Rock:
Hairspray, patchouli and a sanitary towel
Botched folk
The handlebar pubic bra gave it away
And stole the strobe and laser show
Away from your dandruff glow
Poking the smoke between the Pope and you
Scotched coke
Seemless cocks
The whalebone ska gives it some
And eats away the bar snacks
Into our dry ice love nest
With the touch of greasing ox and tasty leopardskin fox
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Tuesday, 13 January 2009
In Amongst The Plus
When it gets lowdown
And no one
No one slows down
They slowed down to sing for jumpers
and the skids on the law
I think you will find me
sucking units of complan
in the hjavascript:void(0)ope of evermore
To fight in amongst the plus
The hardest night to fall on
To fight, in amongst the whatever
To fall ever on toy skids and hand me down law
And no one
No one slows down
They slowed down to sing for jumpers
and the skids on the law
I think you will find me
sucking units of complan
in the hjavascript:void(0)ope of evermore
To fight in amongst the plus
The hardest night to fall on
To fight, in amongst the whatever
To fall ever on toy skids and hand me down law
QVCQEDHP
Looks like another year of fug on pug action
For Deidre Barlow
As I swim between channels
Canal cavities of inaction
Giving Q.V.C. a Q.E.D. on the H.P
For Deidre Barlow
As I swim between channels
Canal cavities of inaction
Giving Q.V.C. a Q.E.D. on the H.P
Taking biscuits
A very cruel sea cast a disabled parking space in the harbour
Radio set to play Norwegian adverts
Cutting non words out of verb carpets frankly
I forgot your isms
The prisms of order
And took sea biscuits under
Radio set to play Norwegian adverts
Cutting non words out of verb carpets frankly
I forgot your isms
The prisms of order
And took sea biscuits under
Forbid the morbid from stop and search
The last place I’ll look
Will be the place I die
I won’t die down the back of the sofa
Or in the useful pot
I will die in the last place I remember it
It will be in the last place I look
Will be the place I die
I won’t die down the back of the sofa
Or in the useful pot
I will die in the last place I remember it
It will be in the last place I look
Smelt like a zoo
I was smelt like a zoo
A milkshake of kangaroo and hippo gnomes
I lost that dance to a man in a titanium leg brace
In dry ice at the hippodrome
The thriller
Had to give up the dance
A chair to an inappropriate aunt
One of two makeshift goalposts
Between me and you
A milkshake of kangaroo and hippo gnomes
I lost that dance to a man in a titanium leg brace
In dry ice at the hippodrome
The thriller
Had to give up the dance
A chair to an inappropriate aunt
One of two makeshift goalposts
Between me and you
The ring roads of my mind
The onion rings the death knell
Another colonic irritation
In the ring roads of my mind
All the Chicken Lands are intertwined
In the hatchback of my imagination
Hardened suburban arteries of chicken fat and tarmac
String over cardboard car parks
Municipal fountains of folly
Crazy paved stairway to the takeaway
In the face of provincial tides ebbing in my mind
A bus station behind the empty market shares the wind with chicken bones
The charity shop stands by the claim that the waist has grown larger
Or traded a date for a date to put underfoot
And taken away
Another colonic irritation
In the ring roads of my mind
All the Chicken Lands are intertwined
In the hatchback of my imagination
Hardened suburban arteries of chicken fat and tarmac
String over cardboard car parks
Municipal fountains of folly
Crazy paved stairway to the takeaway
In the face of provincial tides ebbing in my mind
A bus station behind the empty market shares the wind with chicken bones
The charity shop stands by the claim that the waist has grown larger
Or traded a date for a date to put underfoot
And taken away
Thursday, 8 January 2009
Be No. 1 Be Bing Crosby & Be In
No one rang my bell the night they expelled Bing Crosby from hell
We sat in his seat.
They took him in down the road
Showed him some boring tribal things
Taught him to dance and sing
We drank gin and made a mini can last two
They took him aside and made plaster casts of his
Olives and bread and no Bing
Bing was not in
We sat in his seat.
They took him in down the road
Showed him some boring tribal things
Taught him to dance and sing
We drank gin and made a mini can last two
They took him aside and made plaster casts of his
Olives and bread and no Bing
Bing was not in
The unbreakable likeness in The Mirror
Now and then, between the bends
We run our thighs across the news of the world
An oxtail soup of horoscope and tribulation
Dipping celebrity celery sticks in celebration
Curly fries fingering fat on Christmas decorations
Creaking lard at broccoli florations
Then and now, between the bends
counting the blinks between our eyes and knees
Wheezing down from the X factor to another asthma
let's attack
a map of now and then
Using the news of the world
We run our thighs across the news of the world
An oxtail soup of horoscope and tribulation
Dipping celebrity celery sticks in celebration
Curly fries fingering fat on Christmas decorations
Creaking lard at broccoli florations
Then and now, between the bends
counting the blinks between our eyes and knees
Wheezing down from the X factor to another asthma
let's attack
a map of now and then
Using the news of the world
10 things that I must remember
The first?
I can't recall.I believe it had something to do with squirrels and BBQ's. Gary Crowley had one, a rock and roll one, something to do with hot fat.
Number two.
I don't know. Spare weather. The steam that looks like clouds but isn't. It's just steam powering out of the old peoples home next door like some kind of sinister bake-u-like-OAP-oven.
Number three.
Has to be a hare lip caused by an over enthusiasm for Elvis.
Number four.
you can't catch me on number four, yes you can, its a trap door leading to an old ladies cheek.
Number five.
The money, oh yes I forget the money,wrapped in used tissues in a bin outside Broadgate Station in 1983
You mean there was a number six?
I'm yet to meet it.
Lucky number seven.
Root numbers? or a full house of dwarfs?
No just the veg.
Ok. Better luck with eight. No not really, can't be bothered by now.
Two fat ladies, one of thems dead, the good one. Thats sad.
Number nine
Nine dead cats looking for a career lift in a whiskers advert
Number 10
The gateway to the top one hundred wagging heads braying about the fact they have lips and they they know how to make noise.
I can't recall.I believe it had something to do with squirrels and BBQ's. Gary Crowley had one, a rock and roll one, something to do with hot fat.
Number two.
I don't know. Spare weather. The steam that looks like clouds but isn't. It's just steam powering out of the old peoples home next door like some kind of sinister bake-u-like-OAP-oven.
Number three.
Has to be a hare lip caused by an over enthusiasm for Elvis.
Number four.
you can't catch me on number four, yes you can, its a trap door leading to an old ladies cheek.
Number five.
The money, oh yes I forget the money,wrapped in used tissues in a bin outside Broadgate Station in 1983
You mean there was a number six?
I'm yet to meet it.
Lucky number seven.
Root numbers? or a full house of dwarfs?
No just the veg.
Ok. Better luck with eight. No not really, can't be bothered by now.
Two fat ladies, one of thems dead, the good one. Thats sad.
Number nine
Nine dead cats looking for a career lift in a whiskers advert
Number 10
The gateway to the top one hundred wagging heads braying about the fact they have lips and they they know how to make noise.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)