Monday, 17 October 2016

Poem for the day

REJ:- Wel, despite moving three times, Idris, my facebook friend, has somehow tracked me down again, and is gibbering at the bottom of the stairs, exuding an olfactory taint that believe you me isn't it, you don't want me to transcribe into smellytext. What cans have happened? - did you like that? - anyway, if I know anything at all, he won't stop blubbing about the allthatglisters gold of Mr. Carlsberg until I type out his latest vomit. Black tears of Death my arse, you're pissed 'ychan! -

Hush! It's time for lessons children
Mighty are the works of man!
Glory to the black-veined junkie
Sleeping over Aberfan

Dream the dark gold piling higher
Such twould make the mountains cry
Stream the valleys blackest choir
Little diamonds in the sky

Can you hear the siren Angels?
Softly in the twinkling dome?
Or has dark enrichment crushed you?
None to take the lessons home.

REJ:- Wel, what?.....How do I know if I like it? - It hasn't got a title.....what's it about? Go and cry somewhere else. I'll make you an appointment with the Danish court...

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