I want to be a beat poet
'cos then my chick would do the washing-up
and I could work on the last line of my haiku
Later, I could get rat-brain stoned
and spit out random words
and everyone would admire my brilliant mind
Of course, these things go in cycles
and you must capture the essence
not mirror the form
especially these days,
now that we've swung
right back to the 50s
~ ~ ~
We'll Put Our Own Name To Things
– and the others…they can go to hell
They have their opinions, like swords
to go with their armour
and we know they will crush us
one day
but for now
let hell rain down on them
suffocate them
I'll dance with you
in your long scarf and jacket
and push you home
in a stolen supermarket trolley
like I'd just bought you
something they'd understand
but others will laugh
– a laugh that'll make an extra star in the galaxy
You tell me now if you can
what else is there to do?