prime twats strike again

riots when they form

them of masks & clot-shot jabs

      those that hoarded bog roll

      like a frightened squirrel

them that soiled their pants

& never saw their nan

      fighting over cans

      of fizzy snake oil

see the pillocks pile on

humping yet clothed

      like a bored bullock

      on a muggy august morn’

lost of all purpose

like a beached porpoise

      kicking off in aldi

      whislt i hum vivaldi

look at those battle-bot

normalzzz go

      it’s the freakiest

      show ( oh-oh )

& cumming fucking soon

to your local shop

      what a load of bollocks – it’s

      – twats & rip-off pop

( author notes )

my poetry prediction for 2023

is that simon armitage

will become alan titchmarsh

& alan titchmarsh will become

simon armitage

those two have been merging for years

ever since simon got the laureate gig

but they will become one

& the same

by this time next year

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