I say I fancy
seeing a play close up
no proscenium mummery
raw like panto
shakespeare’s good
actors love doing it
playing those parts that only
some reach and that
don’t mean Lear, Othello and stuff
just good antonios and nightwatchers
she went to the crapper
never came back
was it something I said?
Catch
the gad
fly
the sad
fly
Flittering
Fluttering
In
your
Palm
A
still born
lamb
Unbasted
Wasted
On the
likes
I call it Blake
She dedicates this
Song
to
Thee
Hey bitch broke curtains
Injustice pomes underway
All timing is bad…
Timing
Athenian four syllables
Laid Nagasaki waste
Hullabalulu
Barrage of bad quest spuns
Medium message yawn
Law of open tuna tea
Food bankruptcy pleads bailout
Hell yes I’m funny as fuck!
Lillibulero
Dick the Third
Re-interred, Leicester
grand hub central station burial rites and rugger,
carve your name proud snide:
Joe Orton.
Leave the poor old bugger
Alone now
Break.
Multi room speakers
Crap on everywhere you go
Turn up the volume
Candle fires livid
Imagination city lights
Softening soft sighs
it’s a new dawn
on a new day
and i’m feeling
wood
…aside from scrub
scatted Street Legal,
flew solo around
the warm grey upstairs
spreading love
and affection with
my every breath.
I had a pony:
its name was Lucifer…
Ten at night
The pie is dead
Remember The Grapes
Sickly sweat clings
Cold cascades
What is he barking at?
The moon is out
Down The Grapes
With the stars, some hasbeens
And four screaming wannabes
Called The Vermeers
I couldn’t make it:
Artistic differences, you know
Matters of principle
Moral scruples
Skint
Grimbeau 