Spawned by Larkin

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.

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4 responses to “Spawned by Larkin

  1. You sent me this some time ago when I was having major strop from No3.
    I liked it then – and still do.
    Did I ever tell you that my mother liked it too?

  2. It’s taken me a couple of years or so to be able to look that one in the eye again.

    It is one people share across the generations, though. I am glad your mother likes it.

    *snickers*

    Aphra.

  3. I like this a lot! Just found it in a web search for the Larkin original.

  4. Glad you like it, Mutt.

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