And now I will start a new, fresh poem! This one is called:
As it turns out, defenestrating a politician is less impressive
when their office is on the ground floor
Two tines of a plastic fork buried in the ground like some long in the root horse tooth
So what should we have for dinner tonight? ……. Dunno! What are you feeling? ….. Sigh.
A daily struggle we have to daily decide. Guess we’re having nothing then.
Oh, gimme a J20. Make it two please
I write my name on the gravy train as
stars cascade into crushing crescendos
I always tell the stars but I’m silent on you
I’ve spent far too long in the fast lane, feeling all the bumps
Next door the accountants are saying: ‘people who speak of their emotions feel nothing’
and weeping silently into their spreadsheets
Gays slay the day away
Be your own best mate!
This is a very good night honestly
Dream if you wanna go vaster
Slightly damp smelling but passionate, floating but not going anywhere
Help! I’ve turned into a sentient boat. This isn’t part of the poem!
Help I’m possessing the speaker of this poem! I’m so wet! I’m a boat!
Help! I’ve realised how terrifying it is to be in the water
What is time but a cold slime on the sea Cow Girl!
I want to make a dress out of the razzle-dazzle spaghetti behind me
Hair greasy, shines like the tinsel behind me
The glitter screen is losing strands amidst the ear-splitting whoops
It is very important to use the twisty thing at the bottom to adjust the mic stand
Touch it. Touch the mic
Flex like
Flex like Alex
He struggles to lift his weights. But I’ve got hubris to keep me in shape
A deep squat, deeper still becomes a sit
What if these clothes are my flesh and I have just broken the no-nudity rule?