as soon as these blue speckled
socks go, that's it. A new bright black death.A solemn weir on a stark horizon.Give me a reason to wear color. My hueless affidavit
runs me into the Earth, where I sprout up
a pallid keb- brain orf'd, you could drag my etiolated ebon
body through the ovine fold or take me to the theater. When I was just a minor teg, I sheared my mim kip, I fuckinggave it to you outright. In this little
cote my wan mien nigrifying; my calamitous black, quaffed full of congou in demitasse, of souchong & saucers. My atrous wethered body albicantly degenerating in the atrous sun. I'm crusting over with wanness and you, you're fortifying in the cwm where I used to yaff and stray. Your ovivorous hunger,something I never knew, when first you came for my jecoral flesh, just another bot digging through my soft toison. Like Dall's Prometheus being sheared from the flock-you cut me away. In this drab and achromic world, you put the wanness in my flesh, the gid in my heart. Still.
Just these blue socks are left.

So,
now they want a debate after
they got us in this hell of a state.
The knock on the door,
'Labour does more'.
'Preserve the Conservative, go with the flow',
The Greens don't you know want the whole ****** country to grow,
biodiversity?
are there no limits to what we can be?.

Well,
you can all **** orf
take your policies and shove 'em
I've made up my mind to grind up manifestos
plant them in pots and see what grows from them.
Probably tulips or grey men

Nothing will change whoever gets in
whoever's first past the trough they all stop to
dip in,
they're all of the same, using us by
confusing us by using a different name.

But I'll wait and then see on the BBC
Who's going to be the new 'pope',
whoever it is
there's no hope,
I'll still be poor.

When the King came down to the counting house and found all his money had gone
he ranted on as only Kings can in the Kingly way
for a year and a day,
which was surprising but only in that it reminded me of the pea green boat and the ***** cat
the loss of his dosh had nothing whatsoever to do with that.
The King was now potless
not a penny to spare
he couldn't sell knighthoods or forested woods,
he was as they say,'boracic lint'
skint
a pauper.

His Daughter,
the lady Jamille
cried a lot
for now she'd to deal with the peasantry and pleasantly so,
she had to learn how to grow,
cabbages,turnips and broad beans it seems she did well enough to feed the family with vegetables
she could stuff tomatoes with mince because quince was 'orf' the menu
she made ragout and that was a mess,spilled it all down her best lavender dress and she cried a lot more.
Being poor was not good and being knightless and single was worse,she was sure she'd been cursed by some well versed old witch who was concocting a spell to leave her quite naked,not even a stitch to her name,
I did mention her name was Jamille?
yes
Jamille learnt to steal and to lie and to cheat
a normal occupation
if you have to stand on your own two feet (in shoes which she stole)
She got caught in the end and in the courts of the justice was ordered to mend her ways.
The old King was ashamed but could hardly be blamed for this circumstance which caused him such grief
it was down to the thief who stole all of his money and the same thief pretends now to be posh,
well he would do with all of that dosh
but we know different don't we.

Clothes may make the man as much as any amount of money can but
it does not make you a king and vice versa,

In the split of the separateness
enjoyed by the desperate in
their loneliness,
where her highness looks down on them
are the men called the building blocks.
.
These are the men that roll with the knocks
the men who say, ******* to you.
The navvies,the chavs,the spivs,
they're the lads that raised up this nation,
the ones we owe a due to.

Whitehall wizards.

The chinless and spineless in black suits are mindless
and we gave them carte blanche,
brought down an avalanche on our heads,
these are the saintly who praise me,
lie to and patronise me,
politicians are slimy
they remind me
of worms,
they take like the snakes that they are
and no doubt they'll go far.

We only see them as He Men,because
we've been hypnotised by
the old school ties, which tell even
older lies
I despise them all.

***** Whitehall and the mandate
become the revolution before it's
too late.

Here in the split
I don't give a ****
they can all **** orf
and leave me alone.

I wish I could be impressed
And maybe I should be
You obviously tried way too hard
And I can tell you did it for me
But how can I possibly ignore
That you tried too hard
So inadequately?

Stood in the line at a time when they should let me sit

Young people don't care a bit that I'm aged and careworn

It's dawn or thereabouts and the roundabouts are turning
the wheels are spinning
and the underground system is thinking of twinning with a sardine factory in Sarawak,
that may or may not be true but I do know it would not be my first choice to come and go on this antiquated service.

If there's a god and he gave us wings
why can't I fly ?

I think i'll be down here until the day that I die and then I'll be down here some more.

I refuse to mind the closing doors,
or
watch my P's and Q's
I absolutely refuse and then I do what they tell me
because I am a product of my environment
put upon by this government
stood here as a monument
to all that has gone before

mind the doors?

**** orf.

Let's see who's got
the
lightest fingers
who can get them in
the tightest places?

Faces?
I've had enough of them,
unqualified kids who
like to think they are men
and men
who are still in puberty
aged forty three!

who sold it though
to the highest bidder?

I've got rid of a life waiting for this,
the 'Glasgow kiss'
the 'Johnny Kwango' headbutt
the one fall, submit or die,
Billy Two Rivers
sending shivers like ripples
that made my ******* *****

Oops, suspect what you want, but
live a lie with one hand tied
behind your back
and you become
a one armed man.

too obvious?
try this,
or
**** orf
if ya don't like it.

Row mania.

someone stole the light at
the end of the tunnel and
pickled it with red cabbage,
the salad option,

I have no opinion
you don't pay me for those
you can't afford me anyway.


we will wait and see
unless time plays
the joker.

I'm in the red corner
( politically stressed)
clinically depressed
messed up
cussed out
and all this for enough
snout to take a break
and have a smoke
but
it's all ******* and
we all know it

the problem is,
when they tell you
it ain't **** you're shovelling
and you believe it.

It's gone really well so far
prosecutions
vaccinations
demonstrations
not forgetting
furlough,

and I wonder,
is a furlough as far
as a furlong,
because it took a lot of time
to get to the end of it and
as far as I can recall
a furlong's not long at all.


what about the fake news tour
by that gobby guy?
good stuff
great stuff
telling Boris and his shitehawks
to get stuffed,

The Global Climate thingy
up North in a place called
Scotland!
fukin always cold up there
what do they know about
Global warming?

Biden?  the boss man
why then
fifty plus cars in his cavalcade
is he lonely?
asking for a friend.

It's like living on a
magic mushroom farm
or in a funny farm
someone shouts,
no harm in that,

and he can **** orf too.

It was '..one giant leap for mankind'
and then we left that thought behind
and carried on as we did before,
Something was in the water
but
it was definitely not the future,
probably chlorine,

and we came back to earth with a bump,
'one lump or two, Vicar?'

we're
as sick as a
parrot
stuck in a cage
or fish in the fryer
crying with rage,

it'll get better
they assure me of this
I tell 'em all
to **** orf.