Monthly Archives: May 2013

A murder of prose, a pride of lines..

Collective noun

for a collection of nouns?

Underground buses

and washed up towns.


Opened up and ruined, I let the wind in.

Rich man vs. poor man, this old beggar will win.


Understand that dynamic.

Un-sink our Titanic.

Our destruction designed it.

My cruel mistress confined it.


Shut down and smashed, I lock the rain out.

Roof vs. sky, that old beggar has clout.


Follow your lead?

Unlock my greed?

Fuck you. Your creed.

Your unnecessary need.


Your words have a choice.

They represent your voice.

But neither adhere

to the things we hold dear.


Closed in and battered, I let the sun shine.

Conflict vs. passion, one old beggar’s divine.


Wine in my glass.

Death on my plate.

I’d rather die ten years too early.

Than ten minutes too late.


Un-Tory this benefit, un-bonus my bank.

Un-vomit the single malt whisky you drank.


You do none of this of course.

In fact it gets worse.

Nothing to say ‘cept a warning or curse.


Scrawled in sick on the tube station floor.

Mind the gap.

Mind the gap.

Mind the gap between the rich and the poor.