In with it went a grain of sand
And from within there’s no escape.
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The terrier loved perverted fun,
His stubby legs could barely runso he made up the game of ‘one’.For yonks he spent his lonely nightson his computer, using bytes.Soon, Carpal Tunnel got his wriststhus grew the pile of unmarked listsof names of poets he could hateand from the shadows he would rate.He did not know that his malaisecould have been cured…
Those who drink shall, someday, die
All humans that are so inclinedto think that booze corrupts the mindshall die someday, and just the sameso let me say this, in the nameof all my brethren who like merely on alcohol to peeand who, for ninety other reasonsimbibe each day and all the seasons,we know about the brew’s own magicto be without it…
The little boy looked in my eyes,
I thought it time to realisethat here, in front of Sears,where one can buy the lot,that a donation would be goodfrom those who relish glut.So, thinking that I really shouldbe generous on this fine day,I gave a tenner, got a buttonbut no one said a loud Hooray,the button said I was a mutton,you were assigned…
Poetry is when you can put
call it TOE for trans-esophagealand then you look at the heart from behind.It’ll tell you a few thingsbut it won’t allow you to look into theheart of a human being.For that, you’ll have to,well, you have to….
Longevity is what you get
What happens in this world insteadis the creation of a lineof imbecilic, useless creatures,abnormal chromosomes from hell,resulting in sub-human features,in misfits that could never tellwhat’s right or wrong and what is kindness.It’s not a question of I Qbut one of deaf-mute triggered blindness,you find examples in the Zoo.One either has been well-endowedwith all that Nature…
Each time I hear from Mister Vicious
She cheers me up and calms me downremoves my wrinkles and my frown.Next time that Mister Vicious callsI’ll dream of boobs. Forget the balls.