Where'd you get them spex?
Where'd you get them kecks?
Jesus lid yer clobbers off the chart!
And frocks for lady muck
Of prezzies there's a glut
The fences laughing
Play their part
But you've murdered trust so early
Gone so ******* Tory
Turning self obession into art.

Theres a war between hamsters and toads
How it started nobody knows
But it's lasted now
Since time out of mind
And the hate simply has not declined

A border dispute?
Or more Tonton macoute?
Hamsters don't go for it subtle
While the toads they abide
And wait for stars align
And know now its time to throw down

For thousands o years
It's was nothing but tears
Though neither are capable o crying
Through relentless attrition
And murderous ambition
By the countless millions
They were dying.

But there's news from the front
Arbitration's afoot
There be disrupters
Of slime and of fur
They want peace and not war
To both kings they implore
Pointless hatred
Must be denied.

Every breath comes with effort
Every step with pain
The ****** things you did
Flash over and over again
You never see your friends
And they have never seen you
Once ruddy with passion
Now you just feel blue
Ache
Cough
Splutter
Limp
Arched over like aged cast out toothless chimp
Can't connect to the world
To my dim eyes
It's just crazy
I said it once
And I'll say it again
I wish the lord would take me.

Get up and drink
Wouldn't that
Be funny
But we live in a world
That runs on money
The thing is that that means
What We create
Is based on the workings
Of what you call hate.

121 years twixt the Montgolfiers and the Wrights
Then only 42  more
To Hiroshima
Going on that timeline
We should all be vaporised
So our demise must be less obvious

PETA say don't kick a robot
You can see where this is going of course
Transhumanism can't be delayed
It's what we about
It's what we do
its written in our DNA

What's the difference/distance
From an artificial hip
To a neural link chip
I shake my bonce
As you scoff
I hear Leonardo
As he Scratches his head
"What is this vision?
Alexa,off!?"

I remember seeing my first Greebo
It was on the bus to town
Swaythed in crusty denim
He lived by his own sound

I must have been 7 or 8
And was with me ma
Casting furtive glances over me shoulder
At the great gallah

His hair was strident
His beard was fierce
He stunk of hippy juice
My god i thought
By his lifestyle
I am preternaturally seduced

I'm guessing through
The mists o time
He must be pushing 70
I hope his life was happy
And his rockin was aplenty.

Was the last action
To fill from the bottom
To the haf way point
Or to drain from the top to the same?
There's your answer mate.

I met a lady in a pub
And we got on well
The chat was easy
And flowed both ways
I could feel a connection
And I think she did too
The time ran quickly
The last bell rung
Our eyes met
And the lady said
I've enjoyed speaking
To you
I've haven't laughed
Like that in ages
I feel you felt it too
She said
I'd invite you home
But I'm on my menstral cycle
I'm replied smoothly
That's ok queen
I'll follow you home
On my Honda.

Why is there something
Rather than nothing?
Followed swiftly by
What is there
And what's it like?
The sound of one hand clapping
And does a fish really need a bike?
The silence of falling forest trees
Two sets o footprints become one
An old lady and a serpent
A prodigal has his fun
Cast thy bread upon the water
And then times that by ten
Don't be counting them
Precognitive chickens now
Like some optimistic hen.

It's my birthday today,pour me a scotch.
No,pour yourself a scotch.
No,let me pour you a scotch.
No,it's my birthday today,pour me a scotch.

Skeleton walks into a pub
Orders a pint of Guinness
And a mop

Hello poetry
Hello piety
Hello my growing need for sobriety
Goodbye the lash
Goodbye the sauce
Goodbye to laughter
And high times of course
Once it was fun
Once it was keen
But like Carlito opined
You just run out of steam.

I came here with my clay
Ready to throw down.

I've heard there is a bus stop
On the old Kent road
On the roof o which
A VHS o Hellraiser
Was thrown

Someone saw it
And took a picture
And soon a community was formed
And more copies
The elements endured

Rain and frost and then thaw

A classic piece of art
Wether meant or not
You got to give to the cockneys
Some o them ain't *****.

The boy stood on the burning deck
He'd never seen the like
His vintage radio refused to work
Because of melted Bakelite.

In Hollywood
Gas masks work forever
And in the worst conditions imaginable
In reality I bet they're a bit ****
It just doesn't seem that tangible.

Tilly licks her lips,when the vinegar hits the chips.
Don't you know? Now,
she does back flips.
She'll walk by your side
If you have some scampi fries
or perchance , a Cheesey moment,
when it comes to food
She'll brook no opponent,
Were I to die
She'd eat my components.

It's all on her terms,
She don't need you or no one else,
She has herself,
But what's that in your hand?
Could it be something she might understand
To be human food?
Always in that mood,
She will not be misconstrued.

It's about an hour and ten in
Depending on the ads
When he's in the map room
Calculating where to dig
If you blink you will miss it
But it's deffo there
A classic ****
Defined and then
Rubbed right out o there.

Evil is an ocean in which we float
And from that we drink
It's buoyancy uplifts up
It's salt makes us sick

It's waves push us
In all the ways we go
The currents aggregate
The humans on the flow
To islands o detritus
Perched around the world
All cliffs o which face the sun
Although that sounds absurd
The shitness o this verse
The mewling o the heart
All the above can be said
About love and art.

A cat hijacks a plane
Puts a gun to the pilots head
And says
"Take me to the caneries!"

Round where I live
On a road called Dovedale
There's a double run o trees
On both sides o the lane
Early nineties
The council
Aggressively pruned
Right back to the stubs
Which the branches preclude
They bulbous forms twist
But not very far
The beatle fans from Penny Lane
Drop many a jaw
But I'm used to their
Unsettling visage
They look science fiction
Ancient and yet
Not that diminished
Like they'd bin there
More than they
Eighty odd years
But no one saw em
Till the need  came near.

Cast thy bread upon the waters
And It will be returned ten fold
But what are you supposed to do
With ten soggy loaves?

Once you hit a certain age
All your memories are ten years ago
Unless childhood or immediate
It's a decade Past
Give or take a year or so

Dilation and concentration of remembrance
Both stretched and contracted
Twenty years turns to ten
Five does the same
True chronology
Can't be extracted

I remember you now
How you were back then
As I just bumped into your sister
She says that you're well
I should give you a call
Time bubbles
And turns into a blister.

Every year about this time
We head to Dorset
For tunes and wine
And deep fried squid
From thyme and tide
Next to roast chicken
Side by side

At  le grand bouffe
Heartburn won't subside
With rising bile you are supplied
No pieminster on this site
The pie and chips is sold by Sykes
Smoking buns the burger gaffe
Will do you breakfast if you ask
And at Tibetan kitchen
The hungry crowd grows thick
Ask him to save me
A Yeti's ****.

How do you know what you are?
The opinions stretch both near and far
They be *******
Swinging off of your ****
Both near and Far
It's just hard to know
What you are.

Like Bill Murray at the end of Scrooged
I'm overcome with emotion
And it's not just the *****
Unfettered sentimentality
Swiftly accrued
As I roll round in mawkishness
That I consume like food
Pining for that which I let die
And would again
To myself I just lie
I wouldn't know the truth
I'm an alien to it
Like some bastardised reverse ******* Jimmy Stewart.

Ah don't be like that
Come on now
You know I didn't mean it like that
Good lord I don't know
How you can conflate
The things that I said
To your message o hate
But then again
I twist round in the wind
Shove me enough pressure
And my views I will l rescind
I missed the screen
What did they just tell me to say?
It don't matter
It'll change tomorrow
Why hey hey.

We've built our church on the ruins of yours
It's always been that way of course
Sumarian Egyptian Hittite Inca
Reappropriation was what they were into
And rightly so
Can't waste that foundation
Took some of it with them
As they altered their nations
Through horror and peace
Some stone gets chipped off
The passage of time
Grinds down and smoothes rock
To a differing shape
Somethings lost
Somethings gained
But there's never been history
Without shouting and pain
So we'll build our church
on the ruins of theirs
Again and again through the
Cycling years.

What does a priest keep in his allotment shed?

Lettuce spray.

Ben just said to me
Thank you for reposting my piece on the dying babies
It made me laugh for ages and ages.

Today is the day
I have not been waiting for
A chance to begin.

I shook hands with Joe Gideon
And high fived the shark
After a forest performance
In which they had rocked hard

The beauty of his voice and words
The slickness o her grooves
Soaked into me sonically
And caused the earth to move

Their world is so inviting
As at the barrier i stand
They'll take you on a journey
To learn the ways of man.

I went to see Josh Rouse a good few times
Near twenty years ago
He was brilliant and aloof
Intensity a flow

I saw him in an aigburth church
About a month gone past
And clearly the mangle o life
Had humoured up his ***.

Your average life will last 72 years
864 months of blood sweat and tears

That complete existence
Will move but one degree
Just 359 more
Then the cycle is complete

Equinoctial precession
Wobbles ever on
Unending celestial journey
Drags us all along

From pole star to pole star
Each house has its time in the sun
12 times over 2000 years
Aquarius about to become
The one that hovers over
Up above our heads for life
Recording the worlds horrors
Its beauty and its strife

As we wave goodbye to Pisces
And turn with renewed care
We know our 3 score and 12
Is just a day
In the Great Year.




25,920 years is the length o the track
So stand here ******* long enough
you'll catch yourself coming back.

If Cohen's accountant hadn't ripped him off
I probably wouldn't have got to see him.
Here's to fraudulent fucksticks!
Cheers!

In polished chipped diorite
The essence of a god
The detail is incredible
His expression slightly odd

They found him upside down
In a pit in the valley temple
An indignity four millennia long
Trapped under sands
Not inconsequential

When you approach him from the front
He seems alone
This King of Kings
But when you see him from the side
Horus laughing spreads his wings.

"You came to me this morning and you handled me like meat,you'd have to be a man to know how good that feels"

Leonard Cohen "Recital" radio city music hall April 2013.

The terribleness of what you are
Cannot be viewed from afar
You've got to stick your head in it
Snort and gurgle your own ****
And when you high
On your fine farts
Tell the world
That this is art.

The statue on top of Nelson's column is fifteen feet tall
When the man himself died he was only five feet
That's Horatio of 3 to 1.

Listen to aluminium by Roth Bart Baron if you don't speak Japanese
It beauty and its ache will bring you to your knees
I'm clueless what he's singing about
And I don't want to know
To understand them lyrics
Might diminish the glow.

The death of his mother?
The end of a love?
The start of a new one that fits like the glove?
A celebration of friendship?
A recovered one once sick?
Or did some ******* kick his dog to death,
Just like poor old John Wick?

Loudon Wainwright gets the pain right.

Cos it lives in your veins
And it crawls on your skin
It aches in your bones
Like some fell vitamin
And it alters your thoughts
It empties your bank
It drags to the light
All the things that you lack
It scatters your friends
They got their own trouble
tryin to deal with their own Jones
Here it comes! On the double

So you ask the question now dawning
Is the high in the night
Worth the cough in the morning?

Sparhawk threw an SG at me
At least that is
In my memory
He took a couple o turns
Before the release
Like some hammer thrower
Afire like a beast
The road crew
All lost they ****
They could not believe
The fire he'd lit
But no one got hurt
At least that I know
They came back
Twice more to ******
The show.

It's not at all sophisticated
Or worthy
It has a metre that I really like
And even when
It's odour has an edge
I find distasteful
I'm a sucker
For the things
I can't buy

And once again
I failed to see it early
Something so blatant
beginging to unfold
But by that time
you had captured my heart
And so
I had treasure untold.

Mama cass
Shoulda passed
On that ham Sandwich.

That's a horrible thing to say
When she passed
They was no drugs
In her system
And she deffo
Did not choke
On no ham sarney.

I remember a joke from when I was a child
Bout a darts match and a bride o Christ
The sister was there collecting alms And praising the lord
Got taken in spirit
Stood a bit close to the board
Two double tops
And one in the fod
The priestess struck down
Right there in the pub
The ref totalled up
And inscribed the scoreboard
One nun dead and eighty
Is that what was scored?

Will you sing at my funeral
Will you dance at my wedding
Laugh at my jokes
Always pretending
That the past isn't coming
The future descending
Down to a place
That starts at our ending
We'll always be here
And at every point too
If time's a flat circle
I want to spend it with you.

Milney's got the lurghy
Milney got the vid
He's stuck down there in Kernow
coughing spluttering
He's One sick lid

He should be in the pool now
A weekend away from ******
No fine wining and a-dining
It really is a *******

But he's stuck there in st Agnes
ill with the doggies on the beach
Instead of rolling round
In cocktails
Fuckery just out o reach

Lobbing grenades
Off of the summit o Everest
Trying to bomb the *******
Just Like Kenny Everett
But the fuse is too short
They just burst in the air
He  don't live at the peak
He's somewhere down there

Milney has been planning
This Trek for years
Like some frozen Ahab
Blind to the cares
Of family and friends
Who deny his obsession
Deeply frightened by his souls possession

He teamed up
With a crack squad
Of hard Buddhist monks
Who will joyfully participate
In killing the ****
For centuries now he has murdered their kin
They will end  what the beast did begin

For these priests know how to swing a sword
You might have seen them treading the boards
At you local theatre
But this is real
They will end this monster
And his skin they will peel
Off of his bones
And his carcass they'll stuff
To display at the inn
So we'll know soon enough
If milne was successful
All ****** and sweaty
As he asks at the bar
ARE YOU OPEN YETI?

"An escalator can never brake,it can only become stairs."

God rest his drug addled soul.