Hitchcock got it tight
About technique and tricks
A plus sans change
Upon a boulevard
Made luscious blondes
Malstructured orders
Fall into two-take disorder
Two inch planks made order
Cary grant came through of course
Wrestling a baby horse
Blog a little
Sigh a little
Let your poor heart
Cry a little
That’s the beauty
That’s the duty
Of snot
Alpha, beta, theta male
Turgid prone blue bloated whale
Wretched in the morning sun
Tide went out, your undone
Mr Pye and Mrs Fleece
Dissecting you for ambergris
Trendy rapper
yappy clapper
getting on my fucking tits…
…into a new day fuelled by
wine and music,
art and remonstrance,
and lest i forget,
the dog’s subconscience.
At such times as these
Democracy and depression
melt into one
become synonymous,
meaningless coincidences, just like now,
tautologically speaking off course.
As I said at the clubhouse recently
These days, politicians
dance to the latest crazes:
beardie weirdies,
fags & drags
Motown Joes,
Tinky Winky
They all do the same,
get up my nose,
and underclass stale farts
like sleaford yobsters,
make me think of Baldwin
laughing at George Roby
over a glass of port.
Grimbeau 