The noises I make when you’re doing it right
Are the noises I make when I’m happy
Did you lose weight? Cut your hair? You look different. You look good.
No it’s these jeans
They’re French
You can bet your (considerably bigger than my) ass I look good
And I’m happy so I smile
And I make the noises inside
It’s all in the vibration
It has a ricochet effect on my walk.
Listen up children and hear my sorry tale
And if it gets too harrowing you can always bail
I had a little Lily and I loved her very much
I trembled and I quivered at her very touch
But wait up children for this is woeful
And will explain my face so doleful
One day I mislaid her in the folds of my bed
And the next time I saw her she was very dead
Take heed from me children and don’t do as I do
Or you’ll find your life will be coloured with blue
Don’t wash your bedclothes the way that I did
A water-logged lily is sadly horrid
Keep your sex toys safe in their little boxes
Don’t let them fall in and drown with your soxes.
This is my week of goodness
Of the satisfying clunk of falling into place pieces
Of the tight twist of bolts driven home
Even teetering on precipices of potential disaster
(No change there, then)
Dear Spam folder
Let’s start over in 2009
I’m pretty sure I won’t be needing:
A giant dick, any kind of pills, any more degrees or a flat tummy
Jesus Christ, it’s just as well my self-esteem cup runneth over:
I don’t want a cock, I don’t need pills, my education may be patchy but it’s sound
and where the hell do you get off telling me my tummy should be flatter?
I’d like free money and something tasteful in glass next year, thanks.
Dear Search Terms
What the hell is it with the amputations?
One mention of an amputated cock, and that’s all you’re known for
(And I never said I HAD one)
fuck toy/long naked legs/kissme with your naked body in my bad bo/dh lawrence when-we-fuck/sexyslut/naked women long legs/mens fur lined boots/beautiful naked women with long legs/pussy power/sweet depraved nude girls/soft velvet skin and fucked in the ass/the power of pussy poems
Men’s fur lined boots??
What the hell were you thinking, Search Terms?
Let’s keep it clean, please, next year
and strictly literature-based
Dear Horoscope
Fuck off.
I’ve been challenged out of my tiny mind
I’m seasick with the choppy seas
Give me a break and move those planets around
I’d like a prosperous and high-achieving year
just for a fucking change.
Dear internet
Get a grip. Seriously.
I’d like to be able to say something every so often
One more chance, and then I’m so going to upgrade your ass.
Dear Preemptive Headache
I haven’t even had a drink yet!
Yes I know where the aspirin is!
Yes I have water beside my bed!
Please let me just get a chance to enjoy myself
Before you start barging in
(Oh, and yes, I’ll be sorry in the morning).
Tear it up and start again
Old punks never die, they just grow up and get mortgages
Well, some of them did die, of course, but that’s when they were young
Wreckedly beautiful, their memories preserved in cut-price acid
Old punks pull on their business suits, wondering
Why you can never find a safety pin now when you need it
When did I start wearing belts round my waist not round my ankles?
(maybe that was just me)
Here’s the bit that never changes:
You cherrypick the bits you like and throw away the rest
(They came in handy after all, all those binliners)
The internet hates me
It locks me out
Don’t write! I’m not going to let you
Parade about the internet
Saying: You’re great!
I’m in a sulk
As a result
Ani said
It doesn’t have to be poems
Just write short lines
Everyone will think it’s poetry
Bad poetry, but poetry, nevertheless
Word gives me capitals
But neglects the metre
I bet I can’t post this
I’ll click on the link
The internet
Will explode
In a whirling blue circle
I’m in A STONKING GREAT SULK
Most of the time now
(Quick! It let me! Ani, I love you, Jereme I like yours too, xtc I think you're great, Mr. Witness, yours in awe, as usual)
Amatory conquest
That would be me
Line up right here, conquistadors
Shut up and just play along
I’ll stand in your way and yell:
Come and get me, big boy!
Well, no, I won’t
I’ll just stand here looking vague
And slightly aloof
(Mainly because I’m shortsighted)
Seduce me with words
Flatter me with wit
Charm me with innuendo
Melt me with longing glances
You can’t
I’m aloofness personified
It’s not a ploy
I’m completely oblivious
It’s all lost on me until: Wanna fuck?
Ohhhhh! NOW I get it! Yeah, OK
You think like a man, they cry
I love a woman who knows what she wants
But honey, I don’t say,
You appear to be lusting after a woman who
Quite often
Has no clue what she wants
Until it suggests a fuck.
See now, this is what I don't understand.
Why would you think I had neuroses?
Seriously, you think I'm neurotic?
Shit, what did I say?
Did I say something?
It was something I wrote, wasn't it?
I don't think I have any neuroses.
I don't, actually.
I'm really not neurotic.
I think it's odd you would imagine I was.
Are you sure you aren't projecting?
Maybe you're reading too much into it.
When did I suggest I might be neurotic?
Are you sure you didn't get mixed up with someone else?
I'm not neurotic.
Sorry.
Maybe I've been too empathetic towards your neuroses
You've got that confused with my neuroses
Which I don't have
You've conflated tolerance with neuroses
But even so,
Why would you think I'm neurotic?
Go on, why?
No, really, why?
Just tell me
You can
I won't get neurotic about it
Hah! The very idea!
Me, neurotic?
WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT??
(Now you think I can't write poems
You do, don't you?
But I can.
If I had any neuroses (which I don't), I'd write a lovely poem about them
With metre and everything
I could if I wanted to
Why would you imagine I couldn't?
Are you picking on me because I'm a neurosis-free zone? You are, aren't you? Bitch!)
She tries to eat my breath
I shut her in the naughty room when I’ve picked her off my plate
A pea from my dinner clutched in her tiny silken paws
“She’s just a baby”
And the big cat raises his immaculate invisible eyebrows
I fish her out of the dishwasher
He cleans her off
She’s barely as big as his head
And she rules the roost
I think one of us was supposed to be the Alpha cat
But he looks affronted when I suggest it could have
Should have been him
Damn
It should have been me.
Like me
Don’t like me
It doesn’t much matter to me
I don’t really rate like
You could fall off the edge of the world for all I care
Love me
Don’t love me
We’ll see about that
If I want you to you will
If you don’t, then there’s the edge: please fall off it
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