Wednesday, 28 October 2009


mind my shackles for they bind me both emotionally and physically,
physic ally! that homo sapien!
one in the eye for luck then six in the anus for fuck,
a glorious chain reaction! all daisy like and glad
the grass is not greener but steams like satans bowels,
then bubbles and bonged for all to see, breathe and reflect upon.

She knows not your power or trumpet vowels,
yet vow's, wow's and cows around in the orchard,
need not my penis for it is cruel,
reject, sanctify and moreover punish, my porridge fuelled being,
a pinch of triumphant salt and she lays to rest upon the helm of night,
milk her like a mammal! nature repeats herself and fucks into the microphone, HD!
Attenburgh spills his tea and sings a song of woe and crow,
and although excited, he fucks the shrew untill it is repitilisized.

Tame that shrew you white haired gently man, for now is your autumn.
Go forth! fuck the death of a salesman, and reference my breakfast cereal,
stroke the beard of eternity as it fondles your balls into acceptance of all that is negro,
yet dont hinder to exceed. recede and reread a classic! orgasmic and pure, henry moore!

The end is nigh and a trillion vermillion chromozones are high
so walk slowly as you retreat from age old lore, tread on eggshells and tempra so,
goodnight and goodluck my friendly foe.
Cast doubt upon yourself. I can assure you that i can assure you.
scooters, holidays, autumn.

Wednesday, 21 October 2009


Its’ all just so overwhelming!

This tally, tally ho and tally hoe.

See it rack up, unboxed and fucked on the floor.

A grand total that keeps expanding,

a fine selection of misery and joy.

Primed, prepared and underwhelmed.

This is the dark side, our U turn and ultimate sacrifice.

Once, twice, weekly thrice!

Viewing and spewing as we leave Las Vegas.

You sexy beast! you’ve lost kontroll!

Take the heat off our child, our kid with parents several

We wild bunch with a sweet idea, birthed in Autumn

Charted throughout spring…summer…and autumn returned.

It’s made happiness prosper

and meeting people


Friday, 16 October 2009


anticipation of my inception to a
week full of expected idleness

brand new duffel housing my
contemporised life :

travel chess
a sketch book for a man who is in love with words
bill hicks
patrick bateman
charles bukowski
bob dylan protests
robert greene tells me how to win
and daniel plainview stares back at me

a large lady with even larger buttocks
keeps me pined and extracts my claret.
good veins, apparently

that thick sauce framing the narratives,
going way back to my dead past

the blue highways shall be purged
of their little whites and reds

the only thing the next ones are gonna get.

room filled with trinkets of old and
sorry time wasters, all of us.

life sized ticking bombs dropped with
a check under the tongue

crimson fallout upon my pallid coat -
that is what I want, yes indeed!

the thought of awaiting another prospector,
a dreaded horror fills an unproven heart

mining for results,
the oil they’re after is far to important

a silver snout hits its mark with
the most gentile of emphasized stings

patient vales await their purpose
lined up like soldiers, in disarray

to be filled is their joy
like to the clock that dose not tick

mother dollar will be my bitch, the
need to scratch the consumerist itch

this damn spigot drags me down
drawing the movement out

at least the sun can smile.
mute squares above me spread and separate, my body drifts upward,
the light fills my heart and I am free of this voluntary incarceration

Wednesday, 7 October 2009

Poops and Peeps line the streets

dont fuck my ass
you cunt
i hate you
i wish you would,

Trumpets and strumpets upon my throbbing member,
as if i would eat cheese in the month of december,

fuck my internal organs
behold my foretold
tenfold increase
in the
opinion polls.

Cameron sputtered into the rent boy,
as if a myth exsists without magical piss,
he crammed the crumpled fiver into his crusty mouth,
then saw him off with a wink.

and sealed the wish with a tink
tinkerbell, suckked like hell,
not a moment in a cell,
but a taste of the flavuorsome gell.

Hark thee mistress hung from my loins,
groins? loins? hark at troid!
troid parker, what a lark for, his whimsickle being.

Not only did i dig and scratch,
but i did find the genitalia that matched,
spaniards and spanners blocked my inserrection,
must ryhmme with erection.

post election? wham and wallop!
bring o the trollop!
tits and all
in america,
it's fall.

seeimg in fosight is a gem,
but indeed the momenton burst a flame.......insane,
poops and peeps line the streets,
and death maims the volume of the beautiful teets.!