Park lunch

I sit in the park and watch flies feasting on a shit
Brown honey of a variety I don't like one bit
A warm bad smell of a fetid foul flower
Beckons Beelezebub's serfs with its pungent powers
A hive of flies all different in size
With no question of objection in their act of digestion
The swarm nibbles on through the faecal carrion
Each one dancing like a rancid Bacchanalian
The crappy carcas already slain when deployed
An offering of sacrifce to be chewed and enjoyed
For the flies it is a banquet with robust flavours
For me it is a meal I would wish to waiver

Shoreditch Art

Art? Fart! A lot of guff on paper - posturing philosophy: a visual
cacophony perfumed each thought with such meaning,
but as such seeming to mean nothing.

An errant waft of creativity - miasma of its infinity.

Daily Slave

I watch from a bus as the world goes by:
So many lives, so many souls, so many sighs.
The morning drudgery - the silent rush -
The selfish crowd and the unspoken crush.
Where is it that we are really going?
Toward a better life without knowing -
Or toward a life carrying chains,
As we lose the colours in the rains?
Give us this day our daily slave,
And all those trinkets that we crave;
Forgive us now for our temptations,
In a hope that we will one day reach redemption.

Ode to Pisa

Phallic fallacy
You tower over me,
Acock; askew:
Your plumb line untrue.
Yet there you stand
On uncertain land,
Leaving your audience agog -
As you lurch deeper into the bog.

Lament of the Wishing Well

Come to me with your shiny tokens -
Your precious dreams envisaged then spoken
In watery echo, ripple out each request;
Your aquatic genii: servile to behest.

But I was once worshipped, revered, adored,
Sacrament, sacrosanct, both pauper and lord,
Now I am contained and serving others -
Resort for the desperate, greedy, and lovers.

Turnip Poem

Lordy lordy a swede to thee
I found a turnip sitting in the tree.
"'scuse me dear turnip", I doth sayeth to it,
"might I sample you just one little bit?"
The turnip looked scared and shy'ed away
I could tell by his voice he wanted me not to stay.
"Go now young sir," he doth sayeth to me,
"let I rest, just leave me be."
"Why?" I inquired to this shaken form
"Why?!" Echoed the veg, "Just be gone!"
I wondered awhile at this turnip's fear
and mused to myself when I saw a tear;
the turnip that sat up in this tree
started to shed sweet tears down upon me.
I mused some more as this turnip sobbed
and at that moment I was viciously robbed!
Six carrots and colliflower three
suddenly overpowered me!
they stole my money and clothing too
and left me naked with nothing to do,
I hid my modesty as the vegetables fled-
carrying my belongings above their heads.
After the shock I recovered myself
and thanked the stars for retaining my health,
then I heard again the voice from on high
and looked up to see the turnip sigh
"didst I not tell thee not to stay?"
(His words gave me no comfort that day)
"Why did ye not tell me of the dangers!" I ranted and raged
"This whole episode was cleverly staged!
You know these vegetable vagabonds do you not?"
"I do not young sir, I know no plot"
I did not believe the turnip's words
so I chopped up his body and fed it to the birds.