Little Bo-Peep had sold all the sheep
and concocted a tale to tell.

I'd like to sleep too,
but I bought all those sheep
and now I have to count them.

so much for nursery
the shepherd is cursing me
and Bo-Peep's dad looks mad.

What has that got to do with anything other than a brain wave and that'd be the brain waving me goodbye,

the sky looks promising
promising what you ask?

tasks:

puts on a shirt
***** collar
wonders who he should follow
on social media
gets needier
needs feeding
has a shave
shaking hands
face bleeding
and someone in the audience shouts
bleeding ugly.

Paracetomol
wears slippers
harder drugs are not ok
so
the pills
shuffle in instead of kicking in

life *****
Henry says
so do I

even the hoover has something to say.

They wine us on minus and tell us
it's Chablis and we
lap it up.

nothing new there
we're back where we began
swimming in the swamp
trying to find a ladder
trying hard to not get cramp.

and why is it us that are minus
when that lot put nowt in the ***
why are we swimming
never ever winning
it's only those who have already got.

whine
whine
whine
we do it all of the time
and that's what makes
my swampmates
very good friends of mine.

Let's boil this down
burn the pan
a show of hands
the total ban.

Truths will be
as they often are
few and far
and further still
where the will of man
lies on the
shifting tide of sands.

They call if gentrification
but it's more like
desertification
giving us no notification
of those things
that are likely to change.

hierarchy?
there is a part of me
that stays apart from me
peek a flamin' boo
because I can see you.

Jekyll and Hyde
one's just a quack and
the other I can't bide.

and when we arrive in
thinking that we survived in
we'll find we were blind to the
truth.

This is about as random as the lottery
and there's a lot of me that agrees.

I saw Margery on the seashore
where Margery sat and saw me.

Later in the day, when we'd walked ourselves into the early hours of evening, we sat together on a dune and watched the tide come in,

a bit late for a Ploughman's lunch, she remarked, so we had a fish and chip supper at a local hostelry which charged me an arm and a leg for it.

Lovely beside the seaside, but so expensive,
it doesn't surprise anyone that the seagulls
are all thieves.

Dinner?
posted on Instagram!

life becomes the sham
and I'd love a Babycham.

Britain formerly great
hasn't posted of late
but
it's alive and kicking
although somewhat sick in
someone's Facebook feed.

I need the Captain or the Comrade
Morgan or Smirnoff and then I'll
get off to sleep.