well hey, they decided you had to be puritan shunning your eyes at the word ****... but said you were to be crucified twice-over to see ******* and **** and other morbid clown balloon images that deviated from censoring ****-all / nothing and ensuring you were comfortable with dyslexia of pulverising images that could only be reduced to a close-resemblance of words (onomatopoeias) - ol' McDonald 'ad a farm...**

god save the queen,
god save our...
come on! come on! come on! come on!
do you wanna be in
             my gang my gang my gang?!
do you wanna be in
             my gang my gang my gang (my *******)?!
(garry gloater, uhu uh hum aha um - elvis proved
the english stiff upper lip could be cured - sore
the lippy wrinkle of disapproval insinuated, soar
like an angler's catch of the fisherman's hook!
but the stiff pelvis couldn't - exporting
a redcoat to america is like importing a ku klux hood
to england, ha ha.)
leisurely in Majorca binge drinking
in Bristol is a N.H.S. concern,
Madonna faked the *****,
the ***** faked the Madonna
because of the seasonal olive skinned trysts...
drunks' trolley banks and cabbage heads
of mashing up hairstyles at a metal rock gig...
it was once 80s Nevada deep freeze,
now it's airy new york Warhol cool...
shinobi said: dragon's ***** gave birth to
fast blinking ninjas...
all the world's a stage... but no man
should turn into the world just because
he was given a stage... tabloid literature
faked shakespeare plagiarism of death too frequently....
Anthem Britannia - sail the seas of ****** milkiness
gluten free passive vitamin C, D & A recipients
in the multi-pill... of all the former empires
i got the ****-hole... learn the basics...
the perverts are out there, ready to scream the words:
***** REEL! and get their nuts jotted down
in a blender of teenage emotion...
we're talking the new age futurism off futurism,
since the date prescribed by Fukuyama,
beginning / ending when people stopped the 100
cyclone and entered the lasting 2nd half of the 20th century
as a bleach for the 1st part of the 20th century,
meaning they had to grapple with writing history
and stop looking at art as "post-modern",
well basically modern post-mortem
of the millions dead... the art they make these
days is just gagging for a shooting-spree.

How could this have happened?
How did it first start?
I thought you needed a service,
Then go your way.

You, a man of honor,
A Manager of well-known Bank of Kamulu,
Well respected by everyone in town,
How could you fall for me?

I have never heard a man whisper to me,
Any word of romance or love,
They only come for a satisfaction and go,
But why you?

Do you remember when you came?
You promised it was just for an hour,
And never will I see your cute face again,
Neither will your feet lead to me again.

Have you gone, mad Sir?
To claim your love for a woman like me,
A woman whose reputation is much dented,
And her acts viler than a snake’s venom.

Don’t you feel ashamed to love me?
How will your colleagues and friends see you?
Do you think they will honor you again?
When they see you with a *****?

Have you analyzed the loss you are creating?
By falling in love with me,
Have you foreseen what your boss will do?
Since the other day, I rejected him.

Imagine what your parents will do,
When they hear their only son,
Is getting married to a ***** in the city,
Do you think they will bless our marriage?

And what of the village elders,
Your Pastor who loves you so much,
Will they propose our marriage?
Since they are number one in condoning my business.


Will they really understand?
When I tell them it was not my wish,
To lead this life of immorality,
To treasure this life as if it was my only way to heaven.

Will they accept when I explain to them?
That I did this business for the survival of my family,
Will they really listen to me?
That life pushed me into this after my Dad rejected me,
And no one was there to fight for me?

Are you ready to stand firm and ignore the gossips,
“How can a whole manager marry a ***** like her? Uhu!”
While we walk down the aisle as couples,
Will you withstand those whispers and blows?

Have you given it a thought Sir?
How our children will feel when they hear,
Their mother was a ***** in the city,
Do you think they will respect me again?

Do you think your neighbors?
Will allow their children to interact with ours,
Since they hate ****** for taking their husbands,
While they spent nights lonely in their beds.

I love you and that’s the truth,
You have made me know what love is,
Though since my childhood love was a fairy tale,
But am sorry, marriage can’t work out for us.

It’s not that I am afraid,
But I fear you will lose your reputation,
You will become a laughing stock in town and in the village,
Not even your juniors will ever respect you.

I’m sorry Sir,
Please just make another choice,
I am satisfied with my life,
I don’t want to be another doom to your path to success.

I love you.
Goodbye.