-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
Sesame Street
A
Boring blinkered motorist –
Crashing bore!
Drivels on about
Egregious ectoplasmic
Fantasies of forever fading
Ghosts and diseased
Harlots & sirens screaming
Insults at curb crawlers: merely
Jockeying for
Kicks.
Lamentable Sugar Loaf
Mountain climbers pepper the
North face of the Eiger,
Oddly dangling &
Posthumously posturing with
Queerly doomed eyes,
Redolent of summer seaside
Snapshots of Blackpool. Tastefully
Titillating playmates from dank
Ugly cotton mills and the
Vacuous halls of toff’s houses.
Residence was slavishly taken there;
Stolen scraps & slurps for skivvies: wages
Too meager for a human soul to
Undergo without vivacious
Vindictiveness: so, transport drove Lillie and
Wastrel, the footman, to play
Xylophonic heavy petting games at
Yeovil railway station after the ‘Prisoner of
Zenda’ was over.
A giant slug,
six inches long,
Herefordshire resident;
Lettuce pray!
Yesterday
Afternoon
4.43pm GMT
I became old,
Unofficially
Olympickled brand land lies oozing
gold from every orifice except mine.
Yours too?
Grab bronze & silver, and what you can.
My arse and sides contort in Hysteria.
Yours too?
Once a bolemic called Shirley,
Who dwelt in a semi near Purley,
Crept down late at night,
Without the hall light,
And tripped on a large curly-wurly
My old man’s a dustbin,
He wears a dustbin lid:
His sister’s name is Binbag,
And his brother’s name is Sid.
Grimbeau 