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!

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