BEATS OF LOVE
123. In a Heap by Me
'He's deep,' said someone
as I lay in a heap,
The rhythms of the night before
lay with me on the floor,
'How could they possibly know how great the new 2 Lone Swordsmen LP is?'
I asked myself in emotive wonder
As they calculated that the glass-eyed shallow end of life is best,
The drizzle, not this thunder
Drizzle that characterized my old man's days on earth
Sure, he'd seen the Stones at Belle Vue
but that was nothing new
I never thought Mick and Keith would outlive him or Lord Sabre
or never thought I'd be voting for this tepid form of Labour
Who I vote for to annoy my old man, still
Whose upper body conceals itself behind an out-folded Daily Express
I see those flapping slippered feet untangling the mess
That life became
within a paper so lame
'He's in a heap,' said they
and they were fucking right
No comments:
Post a Comment