Wednesday, 1 August 2018

more flat earth

flat foot?
An Archie Locost
Pretentious Photo
Caption Contest

flat beer?
paralytic games

people send off the clowns if you please
had enough of spectacles these wise
eyes ain't seen seen much glory referees
look at their dives

politics should learn 2 things from sport
skill & stamina outweigh the pricks
lucky breaks don't count so much as more
training less tricks

secondly enforce the ban on dope
no performance is enhanced by words
slurred to mean another thing the trope
song's for the birds

having got that off my chest it's mad
let me tell you being president
beats all other fairground rides I've had
here's what I meant

winning out against the toughest odds
coming first instead of feeling last
being king in every field at once
that's all I ask

flat food?
 guilt trap

flies supposed to drop in heat like this
toddlers on their hols get more relaxed
every morning swob them by the doz
stabbed in the backs

house no name for fly my home not sweet
death to those who think they've found their manse
pay with life the one-way entrance fee
all for a dance

hospitality's an idle lark
those who can't respect my rule are out
sorry chums I'm normally far less dark
put that light out

chortling in the face of charity
pumkin god on plonk I squash your bums
anywhere just ain't the place to be
off with your thumbs

sod the karma let my spirit die
throttle it at death don't let me off
tell me when my time is up to fly
you've had enough

flat in Waterloo?

little Montenegro Gatsby's gong
donor musta smarted when the Don
shoved their leader Markovich aside
who's on whose side

now it seems a third world war could break
out on Montenegro's sole account
all for one & one for all as stakes
thanks for the shout

Gatsby btw as president
Jordan Baker ok Sec of State
old Wolfshiem running a great defence
Daisy on skates

with the likes of Montenegro though
John you've gotta call the other's shots
no alliance can rely on just
its teeny tots

if we gonna go to war or not
atom bombs novichok all that stuff
gotta spook these neo commie plots
time to get tough

flat earth
never flat!

Monday, 2 July 2018


flat earth policy

why cartographers insist on it
makes a little sense but lottery
players making up numbers on forms
that’s beyond me

love the place you come from hills & all
cross horizons if you must though take
care that border guards don’t steal your soul
try not to fake

your identity can come along
too religion travels with the bags
be prepared to ditch or hold your tongue
gladly wear rags

keep an eye on kids from straying far
lifebelts mobile phones & currency
can assist your crossing even war
earns sympathy

on arrival state you took a chance
precipices stood around your home
all you had a leap of faith no choice
roam was your road

Jedgirl to Slags

owl memo

Modern Slavery remains both a serious matter and is still illegal, I take it, can’t stress that too much. Until we get a ruling, which won’t be till we're back in the old annex, cane the plastic on Bumsrush if you must. But since we shan’t be going away just yet, do save a little for our rainy hols.

At all costs, find that chit from the Holy Ghost we lost at Easter Break. I’ve got HRH junior giving me priestly looks over at the Big House. And let’s have some jolly for tea, eh? Bo & Peep will be over from the boys' dorm, so we’d better put up a bunfight or there'll be odd glances from them too.


whine from a stone

leering after curves or kicks of ass
sex portrayed as cute or burly life
guard photography is simply crass
be no one’s wife

only bod you get possession of
bud is yours you mean disgusting pimp
nil defence yr grace take them all down
seven years’ wimp

good examples should be made of sex
plots by male & female gay or straight
crooked exhibitionists the lot
tied to a stake

break their public image till they beg
anonymity then make them pay
rape for rape let robots do the work
live on TV

squeeze them like the zits they are get on
their tits change the law if need be why
not enjoy see how they writhe & squirm
turned into porn

Lord Stonehead laments

Lady Jump
was such a bounce
she died

all at once
her faithful friends
have cried

mighty was
the seat of her
hot pants

now she’s gone
what shall we do
for dance

eat we cake
at half a crown
a slice

drinking songs
to Lady Jump’s

No stone unturn!

Friday, 1 June 2018

The War on Cheese

Have it for breakfast?

to be continued

anyone can be like a hero
in the war on cheese you stick your hands
up & turn round to face the window
wave for the fans

don't repeat yourself too often try
wearing clothes or pose without a gun
photo ops is all now don't be shy
shine like the son

easy does it you could get to like
living like this even like gold fish
are obeyed in office just think pike
make like a wish

that's the ticket what I said about
repetition may not have been true
always leave like little room for doubt
red's the new blue

well we gotta get back on the bus
see you later son look after Mom
hey no tears you know I hate that fuss
see you anon

dried leaf smoking

catch us on netwits
singing for your suffer
yep yep yep the yah-yahs have it
revel in our elephant
cheapskate faceaches
flaunted on Suckerbook
swinging wicker basket loads
chokka low-hanging likes
desiccated shred
& sold down the river
by young sharks
in seersucker suits

the black princess

not the only Yank to wed a prince
Kelly Grace & Simpson Mrs both
took their chance on royalty got pinched
swearing the oath

what is with these Boston tea part nymphs
don't they know it's wrong to be aloof
join the team that conjures kings of wimps
fiddlers off roofs

moths will fly to candle flames it seems
bright their wings that flutter into plumes
smoke & mirrors quoth the mother queen
humming a tune

loathe to spoil her wedding anyway
divorcees deserve a second chance
give her time to come up with the babes
on with the dance

maybe Meg will start a dynasty
folks of colour rush to windy stops
take a break from the land of the free
top of the pops

not another episode

Marlowe doesn't run to series two
Faust dismembers on the mightnight stroke
good detective helps the boys in blue
winding up broke

happy or not the ending remains
sacred drama follows arcane rules
blondes are gently pistol-whipped in chains
run out of fools

kisses are exchanged their eggs get boiled
hard at least that's how his words come out
coffee stained the fog of danger oiled
well not a sprout

struts & frets a little large the stage
set for shootouts though some kindness there
humour twists the plot is off the page
blood's in the air

Marlowe's world of black & white repeats
vice & blackmail as spectator sports
murder every Sunday morning beats

beauties with warts

Don't say it!

Tuesday, 1 May 2018

Shallow Creatures of the Deep






Monday, 2 April 2018

Saint Gary of Old Ham: "Winston, a working class blooming hero".

Oldster, nominated for Gallipolli, the Farce that Sank a Thousand Ships quipped at the ceremony, “Winston weren't arf a toff, Ee were a quiet American, on the snide. Not many people know that. Look at his Coal Standard. Sorted the pension. Bricklayer on his days off. Robbed tailors for a living. Won twice at the Dutch Oscars, once for Best Picture (a waterpic of Dunquirk Sands) then again for Best of British Luck...

Gags "Uncanny" as Briggs
Prize Winner
I'd like to accept this award on behalf of the survivors of the Lusitania, who put the Titanic to shame. God bless 'em. Winston, may your spirit level the field. A democrat from his white spats to his cocked hat.”

Thursday, 1 March 2018

Gabriel Behind Bars

Angel Gabriel is in custody tonight, so all the young girls and boys of the world can rest easy in their beds.

Arresting officer, Inspector Jerry Standing of Ukosh stated, “A historic moment. Been tryna nail this two-faced little shite since The Sweeney”. It's unknown how many victims were impregnated by the fiend, but some sources put the total at half the world's population.

Gabriel uses a form of Ecstacy called Religion to drug and then seduce his victims. As Dr. Karlo Marx of the BM says, “There are many innocuous looking drugs out there: Poverty, for example, used by a rape syndicate out of Oxford; and Charity, which funds kiddie brothels in Venezuela.

Hell's Angel

Gabriel, whose address was given as Elysium Fields, Cal., is thought to have consorted with Savile, Weinstein, Spacey and Harris. Sir Gary Oldman is pipped to take over the role, when his Oscar is out of the road.

Mary and child are said to be safe on Lesbos.

Thursday, 1 February 2018

(Stools on the White House Lawn Series)

reliquary of
Garden Turds


Illustrated by
Pyeland Crapple

To celebrate the centenary of the celebrated wildlife artist's ground-breaking publication, The White House has commissioned downwritefiction to reissue its first five illustrations in full digital color (sic).

Plate 1: Common or Garden Dogshit

Indistinguishable by species except in size, colour and smell, the Common or Garden dogshit is found in the best gardens everywhere. Homogenous pood of this kind hardens or mulches within ten to twenty days of excretion, depending on ingredients, weather conditions & presidential diktat.

Plate 2: Long Black Turd

The longest recorded dog turd is nothing but the stuff of urban myth. And the idea that this whopping dump is sometimes mistaken for a black mamba is erroneous, too; the deadly snake not being black at all, and at four metres in length puts the Guinness turd to shame. Still, shun those footstools hiding in the tall grass!
Plate 3: Patio Poop

Few patios seem complete without a good dollop of somewhat loose faeces adding to the cracks and grouting which have filled up with crud and then sprouted couch grass and wild orchid.

Plate 4: Purple Cat Crap

Practically all cats produce poo of delightful hue. Quite why it is true is a mystery both to man and kangaroo. And so, without further ado, let us examine this extraordinary issue...

Plate 5: Sunkissed Shite

The long hot, lazy days of summer bring out the true colour of Shite, a silvern off-white. Flaky, odor-free and otherwise looking good-for-nothing, Shite sometimes resembles a nest of worn-out golf balls. Like fake chocolate money, a good tip for the caddies!

Don't Stand On It!

Monday, 1 January 2018

Archie Locost - post mod'n'rocker


war was young the lads in oil & woad
pestered fishing strands & hillside towns
drove the yeomen back to save their homes
drank ourselves down

peace was always close at hand the old
folks would parley while the young uns howled
injuries we swapped for sluts & gold
drinks did the rounds

so the men were given new employ
picket duty paid to sit around
guarding sacred mounds which spiked our joy
drink ran aground

till the lassies turned their tails you see
farmers' boys had brought 'em fleece & kohl
sate beneath the well-hung chestnut tree
drank we a skoal

there you are a soldier's memories
stars or promises how should I know
drew me far across the wine dark seas
drunk on patrol


singing earthquakes floods & heaven knows
hail stones big as goof balls barmy coups
floaters fleeing civil wars & polls
strung on a blues

I have always stood averse to woe
tipped the waiting piper tapped my toes
never failed to foot the fiddler's bow
strung on a blues

surfed the years from node to crested node
lived a life composed of turpitudes
told some stories wrote some frigging odes
strung on a blues

faced with prophesies deep as sink holes
waves of Chinese that whisper no news
I've faked reports of prison break moles
strung on a blues

time to time to modulate the load
spun them oldies on a different tune
now ironic Aeolian mode
strung on a blues


barking man on peccadillos sprayed
cunt across my shield a straight I'm ill
literate unfit & charmless why
can't even spell

fat & greedy drive while txting quite
bald half blind my ears ain't small I smell
drink at least a quart of hooch a day
write with a quill

just in case you think I'm joking try
crossing me with the female from hell
kids beware is all I gotta say
grist to the mill

sense my humour Polly darlin' play
Missus for me since you're up it's fill
kettle time we'll have a cup of tea
isn't it well

don't much care the hour or day you see
someone's got to ring a bloody bell
what's so bad about me anyway
licensed to chill


when the old guard lays a spiky head
must he mate with milkmaids live on farms
run with dogs go gathering herbs spread
muck with his arms

should the discharged pay for cakes & ale
begging waiters' pardons kissing palms
sink his pride to ask for tick or trade
muckrakes for arms

leave atomic weapons to one side
talk of soldiers' peace & who it harms
politicians lie in state they die
marked by our arms

veterans extend the other hand
playing blasted fools we sing for alms
entertaining youngsters what an end
mocked by our arms

give us more than glory thanks & pride
we who saved your bacon sing no psalms
war's the only creed we understand
mucking with arms

(special bonus piece)

Archie & the Locusts

a Harvey Weinstein production

if convicted say in their defence
like naked urchins they stood with needs
women's comfort lent them innocence
rash were their deeds

born to fight no family or friends
Locust pay was fame & concubines
rape is not too strong the maidens ran
warned of their wine

drink was but the means of it their cause
peace sublime for which post-coital read
soldiers win & lose for love of wars
loss was their lead

chastened till the urge returned they sang
barbs of ribald wit in mournful modes
echoed Arion of Lesbos rang
epic their odes

now accused of crimes for which they've paid
censored by their conquests underpants
tied around their ankles left unplayed
hollow their rants