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"scunthorpe" poems
Now Janet and John had once met up. For Janet was Scottish and John from Scunthorpe. Now John wanted to be at Janet's Birth Party how surprised she would be. But could not afford the travel So he knew he post himself. Climbing inside the box John just thought she will be so surprised by me. And right on time the box Janet did receive Ow what can it be and taking a kitchen knife. Did ****** it in into the box straight thew poor Johns eye him sitting there bolt right up, exultingly.
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Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 3:30 PM UTC
Janet and John for Adults.
Scunthorpe is justly famous for its ugliness And the rampant lasciviousness of its inhabitants; With what horror I recall encountering a gent there, A seriously senior slapper, widely acclaimed as The least inhibited pensioner in northern Lincolnshire. In my gilded youth I'd wandered into the bar Of some grotty hostelry and got propositioned by this old **** On the pretext of offering to gift me fifty quid He dragged me upstairs and ravished me totally, Showing his elderly anatomy 's most private parts In prurient abandon. Afterwards, I wondered how long Before the myriad love bites on my buttocks would fade?
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Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Scunthorpe Nightmare
O but my quest for love (or at least some hot ***** *** has been a hard road, harder than gravel, but finally I was pretty sure that Eros' arrow had scored a ******* bullseye as I re-read the fifteen page email of concentrated vile **** and obscenity from the fabulously gorgeous teenage triplets who were enamoured of me and my open crotch photos; certainly the accompanying attachments of filth and sisterly depravity boded well for our meeting, a picnic in the park. My wildest dreams were exceeded as I saw them waiting in their half-nude beauty and, after a few bottles of champagne and a crate of oysters (their treat), they carried me off, cackling like sex-mad hens, to their waiting chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce to take me to their promised penthouse pad for a nuit d'amour never to be forgotten; "Where are we going girls?" I enquired and how I screamed when they answered Scunthorpe.
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Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 5:32 AM UTC
Almost Certainly the Worst Internet Date so far
There's a lovely little place, in Scunthorpe, I go whenever I can. I try to visit it every day, As does many a man. Such wonderful times I've had there, Memories I won't forget, There's always something fun to do, Particularly when it's wet.
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Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 1:33 AM UTC
Scunthorpe
(20 minute poetry) Them old Romans had good ideas, burn down the cities, cut off your ears, but we didn't take heed, preferring to bleed I suppose, you can't smell 'jack **** when they lop off your nose and you can't poke it in to what doesn't concern, let it burn. And who gives a **** the common man the man on the street who treds warily? Dragged into this world and dropped into the next, who can expect any more? I'm watching cities arise on the horizon and thinking they all look the same, London Paris Scunthorpe and Rome, but what's in a name? Babylon coming one day when Jericho falls. It's not trumpets I hear only curses caulking the back of my throat. On a small boat in a big sea and later the creator will be coming for me. Always on the horizon, eyes on the present and past.
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Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC
Killing time
The things sent to try me flew by me, the past went so fast and the future won't last very long bleak? I streaked like blue lightning across the darkening storm clouds and was fished out of the river spent, the past went so fast. My gunpowder was louder when I was young and stood prouder, the cordite was alright until age wrote the page on the face of this cliff. and stiff are the joints which all points to a solidified end. a bit like directions to Scunthorpe which is. somewhere up North.
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Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
Five o-clock shadows
It's like buying a one way ticket to Scunthorpe or Southport or God help me Ullapool, only a fool would consider doing it It's like asking for a shilling when the electric goes and you're sat in the wired up chair Knock bleedin' knock is anyone home? is there anyone inside there? Sawdust? Knowledge is a terrible thing and ignorance is full of undercurrents which drag you slowly to your doom.
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Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 12:50 AM UTC
Hangover Harry