Pasty Run

Bashing Crashing Smashing Clotted-cream tongues Lashing Cathedral hulls October’s chop Out to get Lifejacketless him Cityboy him Neither’d gone beyond His breezy smiled Awrigh’ my lover Up to their eyeballs they’d got now No chance now to break The awkward ice Outside the breakwater Never ought’er Hunker down Turkeyland yelled Ride the swell Cradle orphaned beef And if you don’t Incubate the rough Earthed nests of wine-drowned potato And proper job swede And if you don’t You won’t make it * Oggies Never take’em to sea St Anthony’d decreed But Master Herd, he hadn’t heard And he’s too emmet to question.

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Written by

simon-piesse

44 / M / London

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