home isn't where the heart is that's actually the chest no home is where we sleep or at the very least rest home is for our laundry days & each morning a shit but if it's not ready just write a shite poem same thing really ( that's it ) x ...
Poetry
( a lesbian )
my dream is to one day become a lesbian so i can get away with dungarees as it is when i wear them i look like a lost farmhand 'cause i don't speak a single word of greek ... ( author nodes; please don't be offended by this poem it's just silly shit )
an even poem
good evensong good evendance good eventide an even chance good evening all even stevens agree yes we get there even tually ...
mange tout, brute?
i love silence silence is golden & i love mange tout but i couldn't eat a whole one ...
sale now on
sale now on so all items are reduced yes there are bargains aplenty if you're price-cognoscenti sale now on no receipts or guarantees no refunds & strictly cash everything must go - but no questions asked ...
when everyone’s name is dave
somewhere soonish in our imminent future when everyone's name is dave in a way there will be no daveisions as in a way we'll all be the same yet the rich will still be sickeningly rich & the poor still far too poor plus the question 'who's the greatest dave?' will inevitably start another bloody dave-war ...
mid-morning turned a shade of vague
mid-morning turned a shade of vague from fluorescent directions to the ways of beige then magnolia the modern grey & beyond this there's not much that anyone can say ...
win a prize
enter a competition & you might win a prize chances are you won't but there's no way if you don't try it might be a chicken that quacks like a duck 'cause someone has to win these things fingers crossed good luck ...
the marzipan man
deep in yon forest dwells the marzipan man formed from sweet nutty witchcraft stay away if you can he has a marzipan body marzipan face & hair 'cause he's the marzipan man beware - beware - beware ...
the truth about wombles
underground - overground wombling free the wombles of wimbledon hybrids they be part badger - part binman one third something evil an escaped experiment they exclusively eat people ...
resarf poetry 