Let me not to the marriage of Katie
Hellkvist and me admit impediments
e.g. her boyfriend it’s complicatey
a smug **** wannabe, irrelevant
to me no he is immaterial
I want you so bad I would roast you *****
you’re a special spirit ethereal
I gotta chubby thinking about it
thy cherry lips and smudged eye make-up like
that Goth guy in The Cure Nick Cave maybe
sturdy face infectious laugh raven eyen
like Whitney truth I Will Always Love thee
If this be false and upon me prov’d
I never Facebook stalked nor ever lov’d
thy career success smug solicitude I find it patronising thy salary I hate the way thou pay for me it's economic colonialism I need thee to but I don’t like what it makes me feel poor inferior. Thou art to blame. Thy generosity compassion thou art really sincere compassionate thou art generous thou aren’t fake the realdeal I dislike that. What good reason is there to hate thy handsome chiselled manlily stubbled all those things that women like apparently to hate thy smug boat race? Yet I want to smash thee in thine. Thy Hollywood teeth full hair thy unhalitosic breath medium height thy non-belly adequate stature large feet and probably large ***** how many ways is that? A lot isn’t it. I resent thy Prius why can’t thou show off like a **** instead of being all carbon neutral about it? Thy reasonably nice house and knowledge of Japanese restaurants in London and how to score many of the more popular drugs. I am jealous of thy ****** track-record I would tell thy partner if I could maybe sabotage thy relationship that way. I dislike thy pretty wife yea who hast borne thee two delightfuckingful childer nay I do not dislike her I hate thee. Because I am jealous and hope that thou die. But art disfigured first. Lose thy fortune and that I am enriched maybe I won a gameshow or designed a successful app so that I may patronise you. I hope that soon. I love thee thou knowest this thou does not know how much I hate thee too but now thou do. -est. Doest.
How Do I Love Thee? A paean.
***** cherry fox fur **** ***** **** ****** ****** ***** ******* old man ***** manhood main vein Hampton Wick ***** **** box Berkshire Hunt front-bottom *** ***** **** meat veg lunchbox stick of rock German helmet Camden Lock hole wound Sir Anthony Blunt Channel Tunnel Back & Front horn truncheon grandfather clock hickory-dickory-dock **** slash erogenous zone phallus pecker putz big-bone Jack & Danny merkin slit truncheon ***** shaft plumtip ***** Edinburgh **** slit sausage winkle riot-stick face between her forks James Hunt Jeremy **** the Oxford punt pudenda ****** wild ****** ***** chubby wood meat-cleaver exhaust-pipe python turnip trouser-snake tool bonk-on ****
Predictable stream of obscenity with no artistic merit. Apols to Shakespeare, Ionesco, Chaucer, et al. Suggestions for an alternative title gratefully received.
So this girl at this party
there was this girl
I end up going to a bar with this girl
by luck really
she was going that way anyway
it's not like I pulled
so we go in this bar in Dalston she starts telling me
last time she was here
she went home with the barman last time she was here
and he ***** her.
Jesus! What the ****!?
I asked if she wanted to go to another bar
she said no
if she wanted me to beat the guy up
break a glass in his face
something manly and big
she said she didn't and ordered drinks:
Espresso Martini for her
****** Mary for me.
Then there was this thing
she didn't have any money
's what she said
and I wasn't paying
as I'd already paid
so she told the barman the drinks were on the house
as he'd recently ***** her
least I think that's what she said,
turned the music up
started chatting to security.
Grace leaned against the bar
they were drunk she said
when she went home with him that time
intending to have ***
so they got home
started doing it
but she was so drunk she passed out.
When she came round he was having *** with her
she told him to get off
she got up and left.
By now Barman'd gone outside for a ****
so we finally we went to sit down
little table by the wall
I wanted to isolate her
get her alone
maybe slip my hand up somewhere somewhere dark and warm
but she ignored me
and instead shouted across the room
“So how was it?” to the barman
who'd come back in
young guy with hair slim
“What was it like?”
“Not that great”
keen to defray
accusations of ****
a discretionary sentence of six to eight years
so Barman erred on the side of mistake
it was one of those things.
it was time to leave
I would've liked to go home with Grace
but she wasn't into that
I could take the bus with her though
along Dalston Kingsland Road
drop her off
but the bus wouldn't come
I said “We can share a cab if you like”
but Grace wasn't listening
she was walking across the road to talk to Barman
who was unlocking his bike,
she'd rather talk to her ******
than this timorous anti-man
who couldn't ****
if he was asked.
I said she should go home with Barman
a proper *** date
but she didn't hear me
I didn't say it out loud
as we boarded the 268.
She put her bag on the seat
so I couldn't sit there
when she got up for her stop I played it cool
made a sign with my fingers and my hand
which means I'll call
even though we hadn't swapped numbers
but we Facefucked
she accepted my Friend Request
though declined my suggestion of a date
in fact we haven't talked again
since the night I took her out
the night after she got *****.
Feel free to hate this...I hesitate to call it a poem...work
I like tea.
why not have a cup?
“How do we **** ourselves?” he asks me
on some sorta trip
the room smelled of *****
where he'd tried to come down
in the sink
How can you **** yourself you mean
I’m not in
I think Béatrice the intern I think she likes me
we lay on the bed as we came up
she kept staring
until I had to leave.
We stood on the balcony
gazed at the stars
but my wish never come true.
Tom was locked in a pity spiral
in his room
wanted to end it
I had to take him out walk around talk him down
it was over now.
she let herself be undressed take me please but she didn't take me Ms Nutland tangerine dream stayed up til two listening to The Smiths while I failed to make a move Alessandra dreaming spires got tired Ministry of Sound she shouted out loud but I couldn't hear the 10k sound rig progressive house she wanted to marry me I think some sort of visa thing at least **** me she called the payphone remember those left a message Alexei used to slide her hands inside my T-shirt during lectures when I did it to her she said I couldn't Sühan lolling on the banks of the Cam Béatrice of Toulouse I made a clumsy move we were high on Ecstasy Charlotte Parry played it cool though she wanted to go to the Cats' Ball the gowns champagne the dawn but I never Katie Campbell Architecture BA said she'd go on a date but there was some sort of crisis masculinity Weitsche Jessie my hand inside her bra while we watched tv X Factor this girl worked in my agency boring lunches snatched kisses in Cavendish Square she phoned me drunk one Saturday asked me to come and get I said it was late she should get a taxi San San an underwear model on GMTV asked me to a slumber party she said her boyfriend was away I said I'd love to if she gave me a bit more warning a couple at a ****** party said to meet for a drink Mason's Arms six thirty she said her friend was late I said I've got chanting at eight-thirty you should come maybe Yasmin Keshmiri asked me to join her for breakfast in bed one time I arrived two hours later she was up angry Rachel Green friend of a friend of someone in tv I checked her this party she had a boyfriend she called this one time on the landline said she wanted to talk to Claudie but I knew she liked me the opportunity gone “We all **** it up it's what you learn from it” barman at Pharmacy statuesque German offered to massage me Candida Scott-Knight screenwriter in Givenchy invited herself round it could've been this beautiful ******* in ** Chi Minh haunts me she might've married me for money we’d have a child Johanna from Lünd smiled she asked me or is it agreed to a drink the details were unclear we sat in the kitchen and drank Prosecco she wanted to get some coke in we lay on her bed it makes you ***** by five-thirty it was light she said I've gotta order more in or go to sleep I said okay maybe I should leave this girl from Bedales I was 25 she was 17 bummed a cigarette at a wedding she didn't have a pen so she wrote her number on the back of the cigarette box in lipstick I gave her drugs we kissed I had my hands round her waist before she became sickened by me a German on the District Line East Putney from Leipzig like Bach I carried her case didn't complete the tennis club single mum Martha maybe Sophie had a sweet backhand we played a set made signs left alone last week