Tuesday, 29 September 2009

a drunken train ride home

Open the door
Open the door
You pissed in my face you dirty rass.
Too late mate
where's one supposed to piss.
There aint no can in the guards van.
So the steaming golden ark
showered Lewisham station platform.
Brindle feigning sleep on the floor
rattling the handle you were.
To get at our blood
the unfortunate piss catcher.
Seething
seeping in urine from Crukies dirty white pecker.
Still brilliant
even after all these years

Men will understand

The love of my life,
lost count long ago,
of all the cocks she'd rode upon.
Try as i might
oh love of my life,
this i could not forget

Saturday, 19 September 2009

Bukowski Dad

I hate with all my heart
my Bukowski dad
when i hear him talk
of his beloved
Eastern European
labour force

I hate with all my heart
my Bukowski dad
when i hear him talk
of what he could do
when he was on the tools.

Bullshit me you stupid man.
I was there remember,
I was there.

Donkey of the damned

I work,
I am a horse.
I have slightly rough hands and pain in my eyes.
You'll find me in the rain.
Tears rolling down frozen stubbled cheeks.
Grey skies above taunt me of fresh miseries to follow.
The crow,
ragged,
bleak,
poised on whithered branch.
Barks,mocks,
Come on then everyone,
Let's all bark at the fucking donkey.
This donkey of the damned

Wonk Unit

Yeah,we've Wonk unit.
We're like hella cool London cats.
Go to the party,guess who's already there?
That's right us.
We'll be the ones dancing on tables,
practicing eye smolders on other guests,
wearing the right jeans
and leaning against walls,smoking and looking just right in thaat West London cool way.
We have model girlfriends too.
Mine's called Nico.
she's a Russian model pretending to be a screwdriver.
The Python's involved with Tamara.She's from Sweden and is the owner of a car(very rich).
Mez dates Goota,a Slavacian oompa loompa.
Yeah that's right,we're cool.
We sing about cool things like laying on women and driving really fast cars around London.
Parking tickets?
Fuck you!
You'll catch us out most week nights at all the right places.
Weekends are for the weekend crowd and that aint cool.
That's zool.

Heroin

It's like so cool.
Inject it straight into our asses we do.
Brown needles.
That's right.
Funnel,
cement mixer,
scaffold board,
up you go.
Wankers

The murderers shoe

Sussed this one out with Mr Stevens.
You know those solitary crap white trainers(size 13,right foot)you often see in the gutter?
Well,
they are the missing shoes of murderers.

Friday, 18 September 2009

Life

I find drunk people really interesting.
The way they invade your personal space.
Basically it get me hard.
And oh the way they spit at you when talking and it always lands in the corner of your mouth.
Ooh,
give me more.
Please,please drunk fuck,repeat yourself just one more time
and if you're a girl,walk as slowly down the street
making yourself oh so obvious to all the wankers just so ready to throw punches at your ever so grateful chaperone.
Gosh,
i've just come.

Sunday, 13 September 2009

The one the world wasn't meant to see.

She promised me the best fuck ever.
That pain in the ass that showed at all our shows.
She lied about her age.
Teenage.
I took it anyway.
She was 17.
I came in her mouth like none had come before
after fucking her livid purple cunt the like not of a lady so young.
And she was quiet after,
sullen,
responding not to any pleasuring techniques i would administer.
Avoiding kisses from that spunk filled gullet,
the terrifying soul filled my mortified ears with stories of rape,
4 times this year by bad uncles and unions gone wrong.
The nieve teen,desperate for love at any price.
Placating her sob story,Keen not to be penned the 5th rapist,
I kissed that rotten spunky mouth all night and fucked her again in the morning.