Killer on the loose
Six guns in use
He’ll shoot you dead
So his letter said
Here we go again
It’s Hungerford again
Police ill-prepared
No one fuckin’ cared
If he shot himself
Justified everyone else
Tag: poetry
Yawn – 25th April 1988
I’m tired again
I slept a couple of days ago
Just gotta yawn
Sleep just keeps saying no
In public or home
I gotta perform
21st Jun 2024 – Submitted to RagTag Daily Prompt
I Feel Ill – 24th April 1988
I feel ill
I feel ill
Eating my tea
Watching telly
I feel ill
I feel ill
Watching operations
And human mutations
I feel ill
I feel ill
*John Otway – Mr C’s, Poole, Dorset, UK – 23rd April 1988
The Time
Are you watching the time?
Oh no, she’s late again
Minutes are ticking by
And it’s pissing down with rain
Know what I mean?
Are you watching the time?
Suburban Bitch – 22nd April 1988
You’ve got it all but you want more
To walk on everyone across the floor
Your life is made, that’s not enough
It’s so easy you gotta make it rough
All your friends you’ll lose
Everyone you will abuse
There’s nothing for you to choose
But you know you can’t refuse
Small offers
From smaller lovers
You’ll be the one who suffers
At the hands of others
Go Away – 21st April 1988
You came ’round yesterday
Now I want you to go away
You don’t have a thing to say
I wasn’t listening anyway
Stick Me – 20th April 1988
In for a beating
I need mistreating
Stick me, stick me
Stick me one and I’ll stick you
Stick me again and I’ll stick you two
Sex and violence, a moral threat
More like a moral treat with no regret
Cups – 19th April 1988
My only trophy
Is a souvenir
A Charles and Di mug
Full of beer
Never won a race
Always the slowest
Always the loset
My cup never overfloweth
Humping Dogs – 18th April 1988
Walk the street
See the pumping jerks
And hear macho beats
Wearing open shirts
Medallion amongst hairs
Mirror men in the bogs
But even they have to stop
To watch humping dogs
Let Down – 17th April 1988
Why does it always happen to me?
Someone comes along and makes me happy
Then they disappear like they didn’t care
And I feel let down, deflated of air
I guess I expect too much
And my pride gets hurt
I never ask for much
But all I get is dirt
1994ever 