Friday, 23 June 2023

new poems from a future book


Arms Sale

Go to the small store in Thailand

It has all things on sale for all people

Golden Eggs to blow up the king

A silenced pistol for the assassin

A bayonet to kidnap the king's daughter

A rocket launcher to target the government

A machine gun for the jungle rebels

Plastic explosives for the enviro terrs

All this and more is for sale in the store

Pop down and buy a weapon

Make the world a different place

 

 

 

 

 

Scented

I think I know you 

Your face smells familiar 

This because you use French soap

To clean your German balls

Only the finest perfumed scent

Emanates from your

Spunk filled nads

Ready to shoot up

Your hot first cousin

What an autumn delight

 

 

 

Lady black dress out/armed pistol watch targets/men out alone KILL!

 

 

Those Bikes

See the goth heavy metal custom motorcycle

Ride past with a long haired rider

Dressed how they should be dressed

Black jeans t shirt denim leather

Low rider chopper as it should be

With twin coffin saddle bags

What a ride to the other side

Give him Devil fingers\M/!

Then there was a classic looking bike

Parked up alone

And I saw two racing bikes

One with a fairing the other naked

Heard his engine as he passed

A man asked me on the bridge

Where am I going?

Planet Mars on a custom bike

With my chick and loud tunes

 

 

 

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