When the funding is cut
So the hospitals shut
That’s a Tory
When the poverty bites
And you lose human rights
That’s a Tory
Such excess
Better reassess
Better repossess
Better get yourself private healthcare
Overtaxed if you work
Unemployed? Then you're scrounging on welfare

When there’s bigoted views
Blatant lies on the news
That’s a Tory
When the biggest and best
Are too rich to arrest
That’s a Tory
But they’re lax
Covering the cracks
Never paying tax
Claiming everything on expenses
They can steal with a smile
While they peddle their flimsy defences

When they're guilty of fraud
And they're banking abroad
That's a Tory
If they're selling your school
When 'austere' means 'cruel'
That's a Tory
Too much spin
Slogan and a grin
Wearing pretty thin
Bussing people in to applaud them
Any law can be bought
If you're well off enough to afford them

That's all folks and remember, you can't spell Theresa May without heresy

**

I warned you, son.
"Don't break her heart."
Now you think about that while I rip you apart.

I don't know what it is you seek,
but my sister is out of your league.
Failed to see how lucky you were.
Did not heed my warning when you texted her

What kind of ***** breaks up via texting?
The same little ***** that thinks bussing is flexing.
She'll move onto better, just for a toy.
She won't wait long for a mere busboy.

I could go on forever about things that you lack.
Like, interest, money, a life, a six-pack.
You'll never be good enough for my little sister,
but I hope she's moved on when you realize you've missed her.

If treasure's a pleasure then I'm feeling pleased.

Five words are all it takes
to make a story
tell a story,
ten are better
so are
twenty more
but we start little
and
start slow
and work our way up

and on the second floor
behind the third door
is what we all aim for.

what's your aim?
peace on earth?
financial gain?

the same as or
different to
the person who's
stood next to you?


A Tuesday muse
to infuse the mind
or tequila to make
it spin.

which were the center of the Earth.
A rill, a gentle excite that rolled from side to side
touching the verdant moors and bridging the tepid winds
through the mirthy wood.
          
                                                                                                   She

afluntered, pivoting in circles,
pronouncing an aubade for a throng

anthropolatrating agelasts.

Her palms and dactyls outstretched. A chilliad had passed, still her astereognosis never produced the fields and trunks before her. Amending the acronycal light an aeolistic caitiff arose, piercing the crowd, rising to her circumference. This clapperdudgeon and callet woman rang out in a cacophony of sharp jabbering, then another blellum arrived, then another carker, soon they were all cloffin at the pyre.

                       Her lips

                                                       instantly wet, her mouth broke its pursed chastity, and among the meek she suddenly was overcome with an incredible basorexia.

And so she began, bussing left to right, osculating
the buffoons and bavians.
Some cullion tried their way

                                                                             towards & towards

   and then disappeared in a comestion, another dratchell roused himself, sudorous and covered in culch. The concilliabule was dwaible now, those who weren't prying for her kisses were dwaling about frantically croodling, mooing, even barking. This wild frenzied lot of basiation and baisements. Beazing in the dying sun she began to crose and cough. Her blood and spit, her saliva became estiferous and unstable, she began to eroteme herself, her healthy figure was now ectomorphic. Her thoughts were unsettling, she began to fantasize her own decollation. Some sauntering madman with a sleek leather overcoat and an enormous hatchet hunching over her. It overcame her, this auto deicidal ideology in addition, the sweet kir began to wear off, and all she could feel was lackluster, emptiness, indifference. Eventually her acrasia overcame her and in her accidia and overbearing mania she took her own life. Her head slipped from her shoulders and rolled casually past her body, her knees collapsing before her feet, before her torso. And the abderian men and women cackled,

just sat and stared

her life, her love, all gone and              disappeared.

Hitting the grindstone once again
Aching regretting pounding ringing

Words pages lines and letters
Chewing mashing crunching swallowing

I left you lonely in your bed
Sleeping easing dreaming wheezing

To come home to you later
Driving bussing going speeding

And make love to you
Writhing releasing hearts beating

Only to fall asleep
Slowly softly warmly with me

And rise again to repeat the cycle

And the

memory
of melting
Zodiac
popsicles,


running down
your sweet
lips. and
the yearning
for cool

pinhead

rain kissing

my back
on hot
summer
solace
days,


and the

belly aching

of annoying
friends like
harbor flies
bussing around
my head.,


you know the
really big
ones.


and in

the kitchen

the dishes
slumber deep
in their
porcelain
bed,


and barnacle
pieces of
food cling
to their
smooth

sun dial edges,


and lazy
dish *****
run up

and down

left and

right in my
imagination
across their
face.


the karma
of *****
dishes

and a
summer
deluge of

missing you


that just
won't
stop.

Two eyes on the surface of the glass like pond
Do they see me, are they watching?
Quiet and alone I feel tranquillity
Imagining the four legs wide with long spread toes
Floating as on a cloud
Totally suspended without effort
The sun is bright and warm
The pond being small must be the same
I feel like we are the only 2 living beings left on earth
Not a fly, bird in the sky or animal
Suspended in time neither of us move
What could change this moment?
I hear it now, bussing around me
Swooping over the pond, like lightening lunch delivered
The ripples mesmerising
No longer any eyes to look at
I am alone

We enslaved by the mind why you think they called brain cells,yea it's eight planets so I'm guessing that it's more hells,they aiming for me wit slow bullets call em turtle shells,yea I got a quarter so I'm looking for the wishing wells,say Ima die early man I'm calling that them fairy tales,rapping like I'm casting spells,only taking W's ion really take no L's,and if I did it's a lesson,if I learned it's a blessing,living life like I'm just testing,my opponents they just guessing,changing things like I'm the setting,on the path like I'm just destined,out the box I'm never checking,gods gift I come from heaven,starting things like Armageddon,yea my voice  a deadly weapon,asking me a who you threating,officer like why sweating,I want the top like I'm the heading,no conclusion,I do this for my brothers  the ones that's on the street and sometimes don't even got they mothers,using drugs as they covers,bussing guns with no rubbers,killing each other like wild lovers life is like a war x2 so what you stand for,is it  them Jordan's on your feet,or that song that's on the radio and you only like the beat,this worlds a trick and not a treat,we don't live by they rules so they trying say we cheat,then they **** us with that heat,give our movas the receipt,and it's going stop we just gotta see,you don't gotta be foreign,washing up on the shoring,when I see make up on women ,catch  Z's like I'm snoring,expand the mind like we touring,clean up our mess like we choring,treat ignorance like it's boring

this is an invitation to act rashly
I close my fists, full of imagined marbles
as big as your big hands and hot to touch

I imagine sitting cross-legged on his floor
we are in front of his salmon couch
on the frayed area rug I imagine he has
I imagine he has mismatched dressers

I don’t know why I imagine us on the floor
his couch is probably softer than it looks
sometimes they sit on the floor
in the movies
maybe we didn’t want pizza grease on the furniture

our knees touch, I imagine, indian style
unmoving
we exchange embarrassing **** we wrote in college
I think how college was earlier for him than for me
how while he was losing his virginity I was
bussing back from a jv tennis match

I imagine him laughing at a word in my poem
I defend my phrase, lunging then lounging on his quadricep
he’s showing teeth and crinkly eyes, putting
his hand on my forearm draped on his leg

he thinks the phrase is cute, actually, and so human
I imaging smiling back and we’re looking at each other for a little
too long and the air is electric in the way it gets when there’s
poetry in it and teeth showing and skin touching and we are
very close to one another, I imagine

I can’t stop imagining
I unclench my fists
quietly drop the marbles
this is an invitation to
act rashly

I turn to you and tell you I’m having
a really nice time

Apple lights keep hurting my eyes
Street corners breaking my threads
The concrete is now heating up
The constant noise I’m hearing fades
I’m fighting dreams of other cities
This phone keeps bussing me
I feel like a ghost in my reality
I’m busy but not keeping it busy
The screen distracting me from the concrete
All I’m asking for is an everything bagel
I’m hungry and dizzy in an empire wonderland of hopeful thinking
•
I’m trying to speak all these lights into an existence
I’m trying to walk in the streets best for me
Apple Empire lights have my eyes awake
Sipping on juice but eyes keep sleep crawling
Keep me from breaking bridges
I want to go for loop-de-loops in a six speed
Burning at the light and time we have all day

Comely daughters, go through the square
to play your games, don't go elsewhere.
If you look at him, look at with sin
cross yourself, care for that cross you bear.

Wily Jane, how'd they get you caught?
How'd they swindle you on all you bought?
Didn't come around to be the clown;
but I think your streak is still going hot.

A face like a looking glass,
Which gave back whate'er I asked.
I gave her smiles, she gave me laughter.

A roving life delivered her here,
bussing back home, crying no tears.
This type: something I'm after.

I love what I have made up.
The exhilaration, after a certain vision.
What was it this time?
On top of a hill, long hair blowing in the wind, surveying the world below.
Running across the beach, tripping over each other, until we’re drowning in laughter and salt water.
A silent morning, where is it? Light peeking through the window. Someone is awakened by a baby softly crying.
Am I making love? Who knows where. it is moonlit and blue. faces bussing, noses bumping, teeth clicking. We are against each other.
Are we slow dancing? Am I dancing ‘round the room, egging you to join me?
I put on my favorite song, I look in my mirror, and I pretend I am with someone.

Buses decorated with holiday cheer
Journey without fear
Celebrating bus moving on the road
The off ramp showing the holiday in behold
Snow is falling forming the joy threshold
Buses make it all that
Travel behind the fact
Singing Carole’s along the way
The road then becomes narrow
Directed by arrows
No matter what
Season’s greetings aboard the Christmas bus
No need to worry nor fuss
The Holiday celebration involves all of us
Bussing into the finale
Extending Holiday wishes to all
Remember the reason for the season
Bussing venture
More than just a gesture
A forever NOEL

Verse 1:
Spending a million days chilling like a baller, but I’m still a bachelor,
I’m the master *****, the funk villian,
Killing these ill feelings, like a *******.
Call me Captain Picard, galaxy speeding.
Bumping to tunes, in my Lincoln Navigator.
Living fate with taro cards, ***** bussing.
Cussing out haters, phonies is paper weight.
Knock ‘em out, let me demonstrate.

Verse 2:
Demonstrating, how to knock ‘em out,
These paperweight phonies, and haters imma cuss em out.
Buss em ****, using taro cards, living out fate,
Navigating while linking my tunes, to start bumping.
Speeding through galaxies, like Captain Picard.
I’m a *******, feelings so ill I could ****.
Got that villain funk, ******* call me master.
Balling like a bachelor, just chilling each day spending millions.

Verse 3:
Game has changed, so has the times.
Instead of writing rhymes, peoples is snorting em.
Deranged turn coats full of phlegm.
Instead of pronouncing vowels, they’s mumbling.
Music has become the chum bucket,
With occasional golden gems.
Shout out Denzel, Joey, Johnson, kaan, and Williams.
And I’ll be ****** like a John ham mad man,
If I start shooting up drugs and end up in neverland.
Flying, off the handle, like a dysfunctional Peter Pan.

Verse 4:
I’ve seen dysfunctional Peter’s, plan not pan out,
So, many times they’s handles have fallen off.
Going off to neverland, because them drugs shoot ‘em up.
**** man these kids madder than John Ham.
Why can’t they be more creative like, Williams, kaan, Johnson, Joey, and Denzel man?
I guess not every gems golden,
Like expecting a bucket of chum producing good music.
With many mumbling vowels, bet they can’t even pronounce phlegm.
Fulls coats turned red, feel betrayed, because the sounds turned deranged.
With rappers snorting lines, instead of writing them.
I guess the times has changed, and I guess so too must the game.

Verse 5:
Asked to choose between a beemer, Benz, or Bentley.
All the same when I’m drinking henny on the highway.
Swerving on them fools, than repent on Sunday.
Attempting not to catch a fine, at least till payday.
Spiralling downhill, mayday mayday.
Declining like the popularity of Spyro.
My internal plains a pyro, La lumbre, lumbre.
Think I need a vk, chilling in the jungle with dk.

Verse 6:
Go bananas in the jungle like Dk,
Just swinging, chilling, relaxing like it’s a vk.
Dancing with La lumbre, lumbre,
No fly zone during the eternal pyro.
**** popularity, imma burn down this ***** like I’m Spyro.
Imma never decline someone screaming, mayday, mayday.
If I did I know that would be a downhill spiral.
Where payday just another day,
But I pretend things are fine,
Attempting smiles, whilst receiving a sundae.
Only fools repent, can’t swerve me compadre.
Doing things my way,
Getting drunk and high,
Addictions are all the same.
Numbing the pain, by paying for fancy cars like Bentley’s, Benz’s, and beemers.
Because to choose between would be insane.

"she gave me a lung"? Did you mean instead, "she gave me a hug"?
or "she gave me a bug"? or "she inserted gerbils up my hole ****"?
or, "the commissioner is climbing up my *** like he's doing Connie
Chung"? or, "don't fling **** as on the way up is the price of dung"?
Goop fell upside left from a drip-blackened rafter, for the bat-guano
-collectin' *** wiper, it was the bat-****-excrement-crap he was after
as its pissy psychotrophical/psychotropical/******-active properties
hypnotize a crazed-bat-******-sniffing-Obama-****-bussing grafter
whose 2017 **** movies made him, in comparison to flit Heinie &
**** Chester Conklin, sixty times Uncle Miltie's length, more dafter
than the 1902 Germanical germination of Jerry Boer war 2 laughter

And the

memory
of melting
Zodiac
popsicles,


running down
your sweet
lips. and
the yearning
for cool

pin head

rain kissing

my back
on hot
summer
solace
days,


and the

belly aching

of annoying
friends like
harbor flies
bussing around
my head.,


you know the
really big
ones.

and in

the kitchen

the dishes
slumber deep
in their
porcelain
bed,

and barnacle
pieces of
food cling
to their
smooth edges,

and lazy
dish *****
run up

and down

left and

right in my
imagination
across their
face.

the karma
of *****
dishes

and a
summer
deluge of

missing you

that just
won't
stop.