Loaf of bread, best before date 1-2-16
Banana, best before date 2-2-16
Skimmed milk, best before date 3-2-16
A bottle of wine…
Barn eggs, best before date 4-2-16
Whole Chicken, best before date 5-2-16
Sugar, best before date 6-2-16
Bottle of water, best before date 7-2-15!
Dates, best before date… correction
One bad joke, use by date…
This poem’s best by date…
Everything expired… rotting freely.
Do you see what I hear?
Because I can hear you looking,
And I can feel your influence upon me.
Goddamn it! Unknown…
Make yourself known!
Only real horses with real legs allowed!
The signs, at the field, ordered, as the wind howled.
The rockers rocked slowly; utterly devastated.
Being fed a downright lie; their field was so highly rated.
In their fury they rocked hard and rammed the signs down.
The real horses while shitting; fled, galloping to town.
The field was now theirs and everything was great!
Until the towns-folk arrived with rusty saws and spiteful hate.
A long, calamitous battle commenced in which nobody won.
Then the contractors arrived…
I love repetition; I can really get into it.
I love repetition; I can really get into it.
I love repetition; I can rarely get out of it.
Repeat…
My days are numbered
But I can’t count on it
Even though one is alone
Two’s company
Three’s the magic number
Four can be dirty
Five can be high!
Six can be nine
Seven is somehow lucky
Eight likes its own reflection
And for some nine means no
Tenfold!
Jack and Gillian progressed up a hill,
For a pail of H20.
Jack fell down and broke his crown,
And Gillian came nose-diving behind.
As a consequence Jack ran home,
As quickly as he could.
He was wrapped up in bed, plus a bandage on his head,
Soaked in vinegar and brown paper!
Gillian laughed aloud maniacally!
As Jack curled up like a ball.
Gillian cried, ‘We’re very ill you see Jack!’
Jack said ‘Yes, I agree… And my name is Paul!’
I’ve been told,
repeatedly,
by you,
that I don’t know who you are anymore!
Then you said yes,
yes I know!
and that I’ve told myself that,
many times before!
Dren is a bird of that he knows and that is all.
He has no wings and his beak is useless and small.
What makes him a bird is his willingness to fly,
He dreams only this before it’s his turn to die.
As he looks to the heavens he sees robotic flight,
He reads up on his finding for endless days and a night.
Dren takes a test and now a pilot he can be sure,
This is a remedy to his miserable life of before.
As the plane goes up he remembers he’s a bird and sings
Then he opens his hatch and shits on my belongings.
Have you ever felt your insides boiling in the heat of a Morning Martian sun?
Because, here you can explode immediately so I advise you to please not come.
There is a planet, just one along that’s a little cooler, with water a plenty.
But, I warn you now you won’t be welcome; you’ll be ripped open before some bastard counts to twenty.
So I advise you to stay at home or better still go somewhere else!
If you stumble across their alternate selves, remain very cautious; in another universe, man + man, still = nauseous.
Do as I do said a frog in the fog,
and he flopped into a pond.
How lucky was he,
for he couldn’t look beyond.
Do as I do said the frog in the fog,
and he leapt out to dry.
How lucky was he,
for he didn’t even try.
Do as I do said the frog in the fog,
and he swallowed a fly.
How lucky was he,
for his word is no lie.
Do as I do said the frog to a toad,
suddenly some lights; dazzled, he froze.
The toad belched, you’re in the damn road!
The frog in the fog, so it goes.
I Eat Let.ers 