this poem thinks david icke is secret-chief-lizard

this poem skips in blizzards

like a jaunty winter wizard


this poem sniffs big marker pens & glue

this poem wears cagoules

'cause this poem's cool


this poem has blisters on both of its heels

beneath odd-socked feet

odd socks appeal

 ( ? )


oh & this poem knows that the world will end

when the u-bend industry

 goes round the bend - yeh, then

- is this a poem

( ? )




( please )

...