They fuck you up, your darling kids.
They may not mean to, but it’s true
that by the time they’re on the skids
you find there’s sod all you can do.
And so it goes from bad to worse
they have the faults their parents had.
Nothing’s learned and that’s the curse
of little shades of mum and dad.
Man hands on misery to man,
and every effort comes to grief.
You do the very best you can
and then they kick you in the teeth.
I’m a tadlet distracted right now, so I decided to take the easy option of digging stuff of my hard-drive. Since I’ve inflicted rather a lot of pictures on you recently I thought I’d inflict some doggerel instead. Don’t worry. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.
What I say is what I mean.
what you see is what you get,
what I think shows on my face,
and yet you’re still confused, my pet?
My thoughts evolve
with structure and content.
As each combines with the other
15th October 2003
Posted in poetry
I had an epiphany
the other day
about your motives.
Like most of my epiphanies
it took poetic form.
It still needs work to find
to match my feelings.
And do you know something?
I really can’t be arsed.
The egg is smooth, round, perfect,
speckled brown and green,
heavy with the bird inside -
An astonishing thing to find
by the bathroom door.
On my bed,
the serial-killer purrs.
Posted in poetry, summer