~

10,000 metric tons of bat shat by ( insert silly name here )

~

consider the people

who sing to spoons

& whisper sweet riddles

to oak trees then swoon


whether recompensed

or sighly not

then plod in their headspace

yet soonly get lost


chin deep in brambles

so ramble on

consider plebeians

who sing their own song


devoid of all lyrics

or music of sorts

this pen is a field mouse

pursued by crow squawks


these vibrations & these

ooh - pressure points

there's rain on the brain yup

these rain clouds anoint


as well-stocked pantries

won't simply suffice

plus wank pretty words

are too sickly & nice


so jingle them jangles

in yon clean breeze

stub my big toe - oh

thus i'll slap thy knees


grab your anorak

aye fook all of that

10,000 metric

tons of bat shat

( x )

...