Thit's begin of cos to you,
Then to speak to go to me.
That okay to you to skin,
Then to go my motherland.

Its begin to you the night,
Old of spring together six.
Months all need to square but,
In the ship to go to skin.

That o big to go to need,
In the building to the boy.
You a long to boy my spreak,
That a long to you my dare.

Cow you bing all needed go,
You can break to user skin.
Six and months to you my friend,
Its okay to go to you.

Thit's the Trump
Who is my speak, in the the world,
I need for you, its President.
In work for you, its the begin,
What for to you, that's ******* screen.

Then go to ****, its the so good,
Its much again, ****** to go.
That is alright, to go to need,
Then President, ******* to go.

That ha-ha-ha, its o to lol,
Smile 😁 that right, i loVe you sing.
You need to break, ****** the pip,
Trump tram papam, that water bin.

Bingo again, what mather ****,
Kisses my *******, ******* the neeb.
That President, its a alright,
Then to you boy, ******* again.

That my its time, then to you screen,
That President, olof a go.
Then mather ****, ******* again,
******* the need, its to my break 💔.
😈😈😈

At ringend on june sixteenth nineteen hundred and four
                                                                     Molly opens her door
and Literate Leopold plonks his kosher black pudding into her hand
                                                                                        Isn't it grand
                                                                 to be remembered this way?
Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children
Searching for meat on O'Connel streeet that has the tang of scented *****
The well known literate degenerates
long to have  their hot-dogs stroked by baaaaaaaaaarnacles
whilst sellin' knick-nack Paddywackery of dear old ***** dumpling
                     How do they walk with her sausages
                                  and inner organs  of beasts and fowls?
their shanks ****** dry of whuskey on Denny's big breakfast show
                Well **** your ****! With a flame-grilled
                                                                       samuel
                                                                                 becket burger
                                                                             and a side order
                                                                       of oscar wilde fries

"warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yeilded amid rumpled clothes.
Whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils arched themselves for prey. Melting breast ointments.
Armpits oniony sweat .
Fishgluey slime.
Feel!
Press!
Crushed!
Sulphur dung of lions
Young!  Young!

                 In the petri-
                               Pish
                               Pish
                               Pish
                               Dish
spitoon culture
           the illiteraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaati
                                      hold a party
                  
                "I'm a tiny tiny thing
                     Ever flying in the spring
                       Round and round a ringaring
                                                  Long ago I was king
                                        Now I do this kind of thing
                                     On the wing, onnnnnnnn the wing!"
                                                    Bing!

Professor Latelate Lateshow Late review
Was talking to ME……..        about yew
What do yew think of that aesthetic crew?
                                  The opal hush poets?
                                   The master mystiks?
The wanz thit
       *** to me
          in the sma' oors
               o the mournin'
                    tae ask aboot
                       plains o consciousness?

They're all Barbers, says he, from the Black Country that would hang their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses!

In Dublin's fine city
Where the wine bars are pretty
You can't find an ashtray
You must smoke alone.

                                                                                  Isn't it grand
                                                               To be remembered this way
Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children?