Waving at me from the thicket
(hullo!)
my lost glove
faded in its gesture
waving at the passers by merrily
sun bleached but definitely mine
swaying in the afternoon sunlight
here you are finally
in June
the other I threw away
gave up
scanned the pavement
searched the park
along the canal
eyes down
some nice stranger
has done this "good deed"
I know it was borne of kindness
fear of it getting muddy and wet
thinking they know best
I pass these waving garments
In the trees
(where no one is looking)
On a gate post
(the owner scanning the ground around)
On a bush in the bouncy breeze
(to be blown off into the undergrowth)
I pass them on the ground
And I leave the ****** thing
So it can be found!

I can't die with black toenails
The sock fluff, in the corners
That sit waiting to shock the world
I can't die with a hairy *****
Looking like a sleeping Chewbacka 
Unmaintained and with musk 
I can't die with crusty sleepy eye
The kind you forget
When you've not washed your face
Before walking the dog
You can....
Well, most of you
Who cares what the mortician thinks? 
Well I surey do
The mortician is my sister 
If you were me
You'd care too.

Here they come
They stretch and sigh
From the rich to the poor
Rumpled and bleary eyed
Bumkin and townie
Dead and alive
On stiff zombie legs
They snap crackle and pop
They are here to buy a twix
They are here to use the bog.

The fires going out
The silence
Fills the void
In the darkness
The world revolves
And I don't feel it
The people communicate
And I can't grip it
The sea of nothing
My link to that part
The part I want to express
The fire is almost embers
It's Ash and red
Smoke and dying flame
I take a deep breath, regardless
Glad I am what I am.

She sings nonsense lyrics
And fiddles with the stock
The words are meaningless
Just a beat on the clock

Atop her head
Sits an ear and speaker set
A phone in hand
A brain without rest

And if your mid talk
With this wee Borg
She'll suddenly stop and
Look straight forward

Her hand will rise slowly up
Looking absolutely nuts
A zombie stop, do not cross
Cybernetics on the job

Unnatural though it is
Your culture will adapt to this
And forgetting the human
In front of her face

She will refocus
Oblivious to me
Turn in the shop isle
And promptly leave

You annoy me
The shape of your face
You don't do your best
Your a daily disgrace
What is wrong with you?
Why can't you improve?
Everyone else is always
Always,
Waiting for you!
Your such an ugly ******
You've such an durnoid brain
How can you stand yourself?
Your creepy and insane
No one wants to be your friend
To get under that thick skin?
If they only knew what's in you
You'd be off to the loony bin
I hate to have to be with you
You deserve each and every hit
You stupid cunting *******
You nasty mlksop *****
Your never going to be enough
You were nothing from the start
There's nothing good about you
Just stay there in the dark
I don't want to be you
But I am within
I'm your self loathing
And I want to win

Where did you aquire this thing?
Whilst you were developing
Someone got acid
And slipped some right in
Back then you see
You had no choice
After all, who listens to a
A childs gentle voice?
And so your loathing did begin
That was safe
To keep it all in
Every slight and every dig
All those millions
Of unfair things
A compressed bottle
Lava red
Fit to bust inside your head
You know somewhere
"I don't deserve this!"
Your lost in the doldrums
Self hatred transfixed
An entire life of things unsaid
Sail over you each night in bed
You need to say what you need to say
To recover, you have to be brave
And give yourself a ******* break
To begin the task of bailing yourself out
While your cristmas card list shrinks
(Without a dought)
But in the cold light of one fine day
that wretched beast inside
Will shrink into it's grave
And die

The nothing moves inoxerably forward
It continues to expand
Dull and sad they march
It's all going to plan
Accepting the double speak
Unaware of the erosion
The smothering of speech
As the beast gobbles onwards
Taking and tightening
Unbelievablebly frightning
I'd happily accept a tin foil crown
In the face of all this
With the word 'fool' emblazoned
And a pointed tip
I'd wear it loud
Around town and be proud
Be glad to know for sure
That I'm just mad
Just another crackpot
And that isn't this
It's just this and that.