Vigilante bands roam
Just lookin’ for some
Combing the land
Fine of tooth,
Grey of suit
Brain in hand
They are all in this together
Birds of a feather muck together
So the slogan goes
Creeping round
on tippy-toes
just like Savile
soon unravel
Whither the day, whither the morrow
Head full of pain, heart full of hollow
History stopped this morning at Ten
The Pinkos have got me corralled in the Pen
Biding my time, postponing the Craic
Till hell freezes over and heaven smells black
A Prial of poems
about giving
up
using cigarettes
as a metaphor.
Smart, uh! Believe me!
I’m a Vicar
The State is
Your friend
Embrace it
Warmly
By The Neck
Morrow
Whine
Concubine
&
Sultana:
Sultans
Pull on
Woodbines
&
Inhale
Passing
Clouds
In
Silk
Pyjama
Grimbeau 