What colour is trouble?

How square is a football?

What did you eat for dinner tomorrow?

What is the meaning of life?

Dumbo the pig, flying with Fido the goldfish on her mountain bike muses:

'See how the sun rises each day and travels round the earth.

I am the centre of the universe.

That is the meaning of life.'

Just because you can say something,

doesn't mean it makes sense to sa...

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Please note that Wirral Words will not be in its usual fourth Tuesday spot in December and Wirral Ode Show will not be at the Stork. Wirral Words and the Ode Show are getting together for a Christmas Open Floor Evening on Thursday 18 December at The Scouse House. Starting at 8pm be sure to get there on time to book your spot. Or just come along and listen.

All welcome, free admission and a free d...

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I marched from Aldermaston.

My teenage rage inflamed by

bomb tests in the air.

MAD was what we fought against

and madness ruled the world.

The milk was full of strontium

and Cuba bristled nukes.

o0-0o

That stronty ninetium

does no good to your tum.

o0-0o

JFK, the poster boy, faced down

the missile threat.

He took the world

right to the edge

while ...

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7,000 animals they said.

6,000 of them jackdaws, mice

and sparrows getting the best

free handout in Cheshire.

800 were people collecting

the rip off entry charge,

begging for donations on top,

selling over priced, crap souvenirs

and peddling junk food.

One was the tiger sleeping

in his shed.

Blinking through his torpor

at the camera flashes

from the milling horde

excited to s...

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All the pubs

and restaurants

have now been made

smoke free.

To save the lungs

of bar staff

and keep waiters

eyes undimmed.

Now they're healthy

on the dole queue

and all social life is dead.

The pubs are shut and empty,

café goers are unfed.

What happened to the smokers?

They are miserable at home.

Their dogs have got lung cancer

and they're puffing all alone.

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Working From Home

She leisurely rose at 11am.

No custom is ever around before then.

Strong coffee and chats

with mates on the phone.

A couple of fags, some toast

and a line.

An hour or two more

and she'll feel just fine.

First job of the day,

get the ironing out.

Some slap on the face,

the right bra and pants.

Back from the window

she finds the right place.

Just after two,...

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Low Fashion

When full bonnets

became all the rage

not a head hair

could be seen.

The blondes who wanted

fun filled life

all felt

they were unclean.

The red heads

with their carrot tops

concealed from general view

were laughed at

for their freckles

and never

brought to bed.

Boring, mousy office clerks

could nto believe their luck.

After years and years of trying

they co...

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My Mum knitted..

She watched television,

puffed on a Woodbine,

chatted about her bet

and the needles clicked

constantly.

“For the little, black babies”

she explained

as the multi coloured

T shaped garment emerged

beneath her needles.

Choosing her horses

was scientific.

If it had a nice name

she would put on a

shilling.

With Lester riding it

she would invest two bob.

Yea...

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The government has claimed

success in its most recent boot amnesty.

Boot mountains have been formed

in police station yards

throughout the country.

Original plans to issue the surrendered boots

to construction workers have been abandoned

due to a shortage of workers since the fourth credit crunch

and concern that the boots may be smuggled

out of the building sites and sold to gang m...

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Welcome Mr. Mosley

to my prison camp of pain.

Welcome to the dungeon,

our wicked lust domain.

Come with me while I just

shave your hairy arse.

So you feel the lick

of my leather whip

more sweetly

on your flesh.

Welcome Mr. Mosley.

I am so deep in love

with the 30K

you offered up

to be manacled today.

Achtung! Mein Herr

present to me

those fresh, pink cheeks

at once.

My trus...

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Three score fucking years are done

so just ten more to go.

The bus pass in my wallet

gets me on the road.

I now get free prescriptions

though there is no need at all,

and my yearly eye test

can be done at home as well.

I get discounts at the theatre,

the zoo and everywhere.

I'm a senior to be presumed

to have no cash to spare.

There is no discount offered

at the brothel or t...

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and the fat man watered their beer.

You knew who got exploited

You knew who to pity or fear.

The waif who was wan with rickety knees,

the rich man deaf to his desperate pleas,

died of consumption or killed at the loom.

Nothing marked his pauper tomb.

Now we have underprivileged

who are fat and spotty and rude.

While the super rich are toned and...

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Disgraced.

Disgraceful, dirty deal

to save a neck unworthy.

Presumption of an innocence

that's stood 800 years,

today was sold to Ulster

with nine tawdry, traded votes.

Life, the universe and everything

depends upon defeating,

the theft of precious freedom

from those who dare to think.

No martyr and no caliphate

has stolen peace or land.

The pledges torn

from King John's hold

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The Bards of New Brighton tomorrow night (2 June) will now be at The Magazine, Magazine Brow, New Brighton because the usual venue The Little Brighton Inn (The Ginny) has closed.

It will be at the usual time of 8.30pm. Look forward to seeing all the regulars and any new people who would like to come along. It is free and friendly.

Future meetings of the Bards will be on the second Monday of the ...

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Don't forget it is the poetry open floor at The Scouse House in Birkenhead tomorrow, Tuesday 27 May.

Start time 7.30pm. Please arrive early if you want to book a spot. Anthony is putting on a three course 'It's The Business' special meal for orders placed between 6pm and 7pm as well as the usual light refreshments available all evening.

There will be the usual £10 voucher for best performer of t...

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Hi Folks

Look forward to seeing you all on Tuesday at the Scouse House. Come along and win the ten quid voucher and enter the Wirral Words Hall of Fame.

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Have you seen

the bus that's empty?

Driving by the cycle track.

The cycle track

with no-one on it.

Going nowhere,

no-one going.

Just a waste

of thick, white paint.

See the station,

costing millions.

Many miles

of metal track.

Rocking gently

in the carriage,

free pass riders

nod grey heads.

They have no reason

for their journey,

but why stay home

and spend on fuel.

Look...

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answering to do.

Penalising the poor

with a phoney tax cut,

locking people up

without charge,

bottling out

of an election.

Resign, or face

the electorate now.

God you've got some

answering to do.

Drowning Burma

and leaving

blood soaked Generals living.

Screwing your intelligent design

with head joined twins.

Belching volcanoes onto Chileans.

Resign, or fa...

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The world was better without Miss Prune.

All who met her despised her soon.

She ate slugs for breakfast

and more for tea

then sicked on the table disgustingly.

Ermintrude Prune, Ermintrude Prune

horrible, horrible, Ermintrude Prune.

She painted her kitten

in luminous red

then chased it all over

her grandmother's bed.

Poor kitty was startled,

but what was still worse

her granny ...

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Thanks to WoLfor promoting Wirral Words tonight. Hope to see lots of you there. And congrats to the great success of Wolers at the Liverpool Slam. 

Earth to Earth

Where is the earth

from which I was born?

Which is the ash

of my birth?

How was the dust

from which I was thrust,

given breath and

life and girth?

Was it magical mixing

with bell and book,

plus the grace of a god

w...

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I got a virus today.

There were brown spots

before my eyes.

I became feverish

as I worked

on the computer

and it wouldn't

do anything I wanted.

I was shaky

eating my toast

and spilled honey

on my tee shirt.

Going to the doctors

I was troubled

by bears

licking my clothing.

The doctor

removed my glasses

and asked if I had

sprayed the fence

recently.

He knew the sympto...

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I was an only child, one of five.

The ghost of a brother, dead before I was born,

Followed me out with my mates.

The sound of my mothers voice rang in my head.

“Don't climb trees. Remember George.”

Impossible for me to forget

what wasn't possible

for me to remember.

Just an only child, one of five.

A sister in her teens when I was born

is briefly a sort of mother,

then disappears

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Bonjour Duck

Comment you? Like.

Je am Bill

et you?

Genevieve?

OK. Funny name for a lass.

Anyway John.

Voulez vous a beer avec me?

Vous est a bit of a joli lass vous.

Er! Bon tits.

Voulez vous snoggez moi?

Shovez votre gob ici.

Yeah!. Bloody bien

Je suppose un shag

ce n'est pas dans le questionne?

Non. Thought not.

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Down by the river

all along the dock.

You could find your way to Silvertown

by smell alone.

The clattering of bones

by the dockland rats

made you tremble as you

sniffed through the smog.

Stevedores and dockers slogged

through dark, black dockyards

heaving goods ashore

in the dawning grey.

The Silvertown explosion

flattened all about it,

but dockland shifted freight

and the ...

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I woke to cracking roar above my head.

A moment of confusion, then I knew

the building blazed above

our basement room.

My friend had woken too.

Leaping to my trousers

on a chair,

he tried to put them on.

Fighting clothing far too small

he stumbled, coughing, to the hall.

A blazing stair was all he saw

and screamed,

"the house on fire".

In clumsy haste

we sorted out the cloth...

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Wirral Words (Successor to The Originals)

Make a note in your diaries folks.

Great new open floor poetry evening on the fourth Tuesday of each month. First meeting will be Tuesday 22 April 2008 at 7.30pm. £10 voucher prize for best performer.

We are meeting at The Scouse House in Birkenhead near Beatties carpark. Check the gig guide for further details or e-mail me with any enquiries.

Kind reg...

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So this is the New Mexico.

What crap was the old one

to make this?

In Albuquerque from

Spider Spoon Restaurant

by fake antique bus

to Old Town.

Well, well!

There's another failed actor

shot dead

in the middle of the street.

Yesterdaves with an Elvis suit,

Yuk Mexican food

and crap Indian 'art'.

A soulless new, sprawling

concrete city with

a nice mountain outside.

The ...

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So Bishop Dow has told us

And Jim Jones thinks so too.

Flooding is the curse of god

for the naughtiness we do.

To these brain dead barmy Bishops

It all seems clear as day.

The good lord sends his rain on

the decadent and gay.

So, by this godly logic

AIDS is vengeance too

The kid born blind is paying

for the sins of God knows who.

Their Jesus, who died for our sins,

has not q...

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A double acrostic in which all letter used are contained in the title. Evil really :-)

Deliver live evil verily.

Eery eel, veiled elver.

Livery, ride eider eyrie.

Ire led revel Rev.

Veiled devilry eyed dei.

Eye dry, reviled drivel.

Red eyelid drily dire.

Yield vile devil, yield.

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Pursued by papparazzi,

hurtling through the night.

The stolen pictures come to us

of horror, blood and death.

It was beauty that they hunted.

Glamour, love and wealth.

What they caught was agony.

They framed a mother's end.

A princess and a playboy,

attract too much for peace.

Not allowed to dine alone

and not allowed to live.

The prying press

all stand condemned.

Their lens...

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It's judgement day

for Tim McVeigh.

For what he's done

he'll die today.

Another death

will pile upon

all those, already

who have gone.

Evil is with

evil dealt.

More died than people

with that bomb.

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An Open Letter to George W Bush from The Statue of Liberty

Dear George

I worried about the hanging chads,

But your opponent was weak.

So did it matter?

At 9/11 I mourned with America.

Shared the horror at this carnage.

Joined the determination to end terror.

Worried about your confused response.

I shrank with horror as you

Gagged librarians with homeland security.

As you gave...

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Not much of a host,

But while eating your toast.

They're worth a quick look out the window.

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Those feeble, ulcerated legs

which cannot support your shrunken body

are the powerful pistons that

drove your heavy old bike to work.

Your faltering, tearful voice speaks,

but your bellows echo down the years.

"Look at that silly tit over there"

A nurse smiles back from her patient labour.

"No bloody rabbit food or foreign muck for me"

You eat the steamed fish and salad in a plas...

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Bay after bay lined with blue, plastic racks

of saggy, brown tits and peeling backs.

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This is the tale of curious Ken

who played with matches in his den.

The flames that licked and jumped about

enraptured Ken, there is no doubt.

He loved the warming, dancing glow.

The red and yellow picture show.

Not content with tiny fires,

to conflagrations Ken aspires.

Burning in his fertile mind

is fire of a massive kind.

One evening late, and after dark

he sneaked alone across th...

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Christ is risen,

but he wasn't even kneaded.

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Through ancient paths,

'cross hills sublime.

I trekked on fields so green.

Breathing in the country air,

I lived my rural dream.

To fill my lungs with fresh, clean air,

was what I sought to do.

I gazed upon the scenery,

that took my breath to view.

In sweetest, quiet reverie,

I walked alone the route.

'til suddenly the peace was broke,

by snarling, drooling brute...

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I am, I am, I know I am.

I have been since so young.

I am who I know I am.

That I know,

shows what I am.

An oak is unaware,

I think,

of oakenness or tree.

Bacterium of

bacteriousness,

is absolutely free.

But, where lives

the knowingness,

that I am surely me?

That I am not

a rock, or coconut,

a rabbit or a flea.

Is the me,

that know's I'm me

in brain, or mind,

or where?

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I was taught that verbs are active,

so I knew they got about.

You expect some minor frolics,

but not such mucky pranks.

When they told me that they conjugate

I had to look it up.

Then pushed the dictionary back,

before I blushed, bright pink.

It said they're joining gametes,

in a loving, carnal act.

And if they didn't do it,

they would be annulled and split.

You have to call t...

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Three cows eggs and a corpse for parents.

A doting woman foster mum.

They say I'm the same as my dead daddy,

who lives on now through me and the cow.

They are wrong about that.

The thing they are missing, is

fixing my genes

didn't set who I am.

The mum who has nursed me

gave no DNA,

but the love that she brought

went a very long way.

Making me me and not he.

Thank you kind c...

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leapt forward with the pot.

To store, to cook,

preserve and pack

So social life could form.

The sail sent trade

across the world,

blending race and lore.

Gold and spices

plied the sea,

while colonies

took root.

The book gave knowledge

down to all.

To pass

from age to age.

Accumulating steadily,

building stage by stage.

The wheel brought revolution.

...

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Scally in a tracky

with his orange bird.

Hanging on the corner,

not a sound is heard.

Her slap is perfect

and her hair just right,

She's in her PJ's

and her mouth is tight.

His hood is up.

He's packing tonight.

Her fluffy, pink slippers

are pinching alright.

The glad WAG's hiss

at the sad slags kiss,

of the muscle bound hunk

in the street,

is cut by the smack

of a slug ...

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Ritalin.

Numbing the neurotic's anxiety with

Prozac.

Vanquishing a housewife's mind with

Valium.

Killing some junkie's cramps with

Methadone.

Goes home and relaxes with

Alcohol.

Sucks stress out with

Nicotine.

Chews the fat with

Khat.

Keeps sleep's curt call away with

Caffeine.

He puffs secretly with

Cannabis.

Condemns...

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Steph and Stevie Sturgeon,

are living with us now.

They slink around the bottom,

and they never make a row.

They're black so you can't see them,

for all I know they're dead.

But they can't be really,

because the man who sold them said:

'They've come all the way from Russia,

they really love it here.

They think it is quite gorgeous,

and they'll make you caviar.'

So they must be d...

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Do you know that in Australia

they have some big black cats?

They do not let you know they have,

they keep it 'neath their hats.

Because their hats have corks on,

they maybe haven't seen,

but Pam and I did see one.

Our eyes are very keen.

Out in the Hunter Valley,

along a highway clear,

the graceful beast strolled 'cross the road

without the slightest fear.

We scanned the vine...

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We shout quietly into mother's failing ear,

conscious of the others in the ward,

though their faces suggest they are absent.

She is sure that the thing which takes her temperature

is making her hearing worse.

Frail ladies clutch flimsy nighties

to skeletal bones,

while horsey voiced visitors

boom into unhearing ears.

A huge man in a greatcoat

strokes his lush, black beard

and f...

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Memories of Bordeaux last year. I feel the need to go again:

Captain Camel and the Band of Hope

Captain Camel and sweet Alabaster

pedalled for all they were worth.

Twisting tightly the rubber rope

that would take us from the earth.

This rubber band, the band of hope,

twitched and twanged 'til taut.

Joystick hoofed, and a plume of smoke,

My baby be good to us.

Poets quivered int...

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There is a madman from Montana

in the Capitol today.

He has murdered two policemen

and scared debate away.

The seat of world democracy,

home of all that's just and free,

is rattled by the rattle

of a crazy gunman's spree.

High and mighty superpower,

frail in its deepest bower,

frozen by the manic glower,

as freedom's price is paid.

Commentary

This was written some time ago,...

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 John Darwin and his wife are about to stand trial for his faked death and their reappearance in Panama:

Canoedling

Darwinian evolution

is a truly wonderful thing.

Transforming a prison officer

from grafting to ex-pat bling.

By long canoe from Seaton Carew

straight along Panama Canal.

A five year trip to paradise

with a healthy and glowing tan.

The missing man, a long time dead...

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I saw you

wandering along a country road,

looking content and serene.

With your magnificent,

permed white hair and

more magnificent balls.

You were a vision of

relaxed power.

You peered into each farm gate

as you passed.

Were looking for cows

whose acquaintance you might like to make?

The great ring in your nose

by which your mighty strength

had been controlled,

was now a bol...

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Tick ticky tick tick tickle toes.

Lick, lickety spit lickspittle nose.

Nip nippety nip nip nipple those,

lovely bits of you I love to love.

Cheeky dimpled cheeks of pink and pretty rose.

Furry, curly fronds of hair my fingers chose.

Sweet, softest skin I massage till it really glows.

Lovely bits of you I love to love.

Fondling in ways that no one ever knows.

Kissing pool deep eyes,...

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Bubbety budgie, you are a dope.

No sense from you, there isn't a hope.

Your feathery bum held over the bowl,

makes cereal eating terribly droll.

Bubbety, Bubbety Charlie Winch.

Mother is easy and Poppy's a cinch.

Bubbety, Bubbety baby budgie,

you've pecked the mirror and made it smudgy.

Stop babbling streams of foul mouthed drivel,

just snog your glass mate, and make her swivel.

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This was written in 1989 after the body of Roberto Calvi was found hanging from Blackfriars Bridge in London. He was meant to have committed suicide, but that would have been so difficult that many people believed immediately that it was murder. Calvi was a banker connected to the Vatican and he had links to organised crime. Bricks in his pockets, and some other symbols, suggested his death cou...

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Passing a palate with foul halitosis,

is truly the nastiest thing you can do.

The camels are quite

the worst beasts in the zoo.

But shiny white gates to

a breath sweet as heaven,

stand ready to open

each time I kiss you.

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Anthem hailed the royal birthday

Cyril leapt to poker stance.

Rigid, he remained attending

deep inside his loyal trance.

Republican, and unrespectful,

greedy too, I took my chance.

With rapid fork I grabbed two rashers.

Cyril never gave a glance.

Duty done and dignified, he

took his seat and carried on.

Sheepishly, I ate the bacon.

He never showed that it was gone.

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 Portia knows that life is a pain.

Just having been out shopping again.

It is a nasty continuous round, of

Doing boring things in the kitchen.

Peter comes home from his tedious job.

He cannot help thinking that Portia's a slob.

She's scruffy and tired and, all of the time,

Doing boring things in the kitchen.

Portia peels spuds during GMTV,

While the window cleaner see...

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The street is lined with pretty girls,

in micro skirts and cheeky curls.

They look at every passing car.

Bobbing and peering.

Behind them lurk their pimping men.

Waiting 'til they've scored, and then,

seizing all their paltry gains.

Far from endearing.

Suited men in lavish cars,

cruise around by seedy bars.

Eying up each girl in turn.

Drooling and leering.

He cranes his head i...

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On the holy field of battle,

the contenders take their place.

A second ties on gloves.

There is hatred in their face.

The bell is rung, and in they go,

to but and grope and gore.

In several shameful minutes,

they wage their sordid war.

For millions of dollars,

adoration and the fame,

these mounds of throbbing muscle

pound brains to win their 'game'.

Then in mighty final climax...

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The Best there ever was

they said.

Good liver.

Bon viveur.

Great talent

on the football pitch.

Great lover,

great drinker,

great flirt.

Miss World,

mistakes,

misplaced love.

Missed.

United in glory.

Defeated in his cups.

Delivered to death.

It's for the Best.

Died 13:00 hours GMT 25 November 2005

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Bearing Mohammed, the kufr ape

spreads sedition in school.

Seducing children

from the way of the righteous.

Toying with the offspring of the faithful.

Tempting their small minds from the true path.

Surely this is wickedness.

Bear faced lies confuse the youth

about our glorious dictatorship.

The name of the prophet bears down

on the flayed backs of the ladies

before our sweet sh...

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In glorious welcome

home from work.

Cascading flood

of vivid colour.

Straight door lines

softened by tumbling leaf.

Entry framed

in natural warmth.

Profusion of bright petals

drifts in the breeze.

Summer in a basket.

Fragrance in a tub.

Growing beauty

says this home

is garlanded with love.

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Jesus, what is this all about?

Just cost and family rows.

Useless presents, tasteless tat,

shops so full of crowds.

A decorated pine tree

and a fat, old man in red.

A dry and tasteless turkey,

and crawling, drunk to bed.

The stable was for donkeys.

That's how it should have stayed.

Three weirdos with their trinkets

were best sent on their way.

For some it's saturnalia.

It's s...

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Between winding flow and waving blade,

The pleasant track along the riverside

Peters out to become a dense thicket

Of nettles and thistles.

With tingling legs and thoughts of clothing

More suitable than shorts.

I wave and cry hello to purple haired ladies

Gliding past in the MV Conway Castle.

Pleasant Pheasant runs ahead,

Turning and looking at me.

Seeing me onto the ...

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I gaze at newly naked boughs above.

I shudder in the biting eastern wind.

I pine for summer days that we so love.

You point to lightest gold and burnished red.

You show me leaf buds, tightly closed for spring.

You lead me past the shrubs, still full in bloom.

You fill me with great hope that time will bring.

My jaded ey...

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Immaculately conceived.

A seven grand nose,

anti gravity boobs,

and an arse as pert

as J lo's.

She played the field

and loved to yield

to a big wad,

or hot hunk.

Fickle, she rejected

those, who lacked

what she expected.

Until her it was,

neglected and alone.

Soon she's back in clover

with a startling new makeover

and bee sting lips all pouting,

up and down.

She played ...

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 Sorry about this one. I know it sounds like a suicide note, but it isn't. My son-in-law did die yesterday and I just had to write something. It is just my feeling that death is one of the milestones of time.

Time

Dad died.

His time, I sighed.

Mum died.

Not right, I cried.

Friend died.

His prime, I'm tried.

Mum-in-law died.

Sad loss, her side.

Sister died.

Too close, my si...

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 Could anybody write a tune for it?

City

Scally in a tracky

with his orange bird.

Hanging on the corner,

not a sound is heard.

Her slap is perfect

and her hair just right,

She's in her PJ's

and her mouth is tight.

His hood is up.

He's packing tonight.

Her fluffy, pink slippers

are pinching alright.

The glad WAG's hiss

at the sad slags kiss,

of the muscle bound hunk

in ...

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This was the wedding of my foster son. Wooli is a tiny place and the church was a very small wooden building in a row of houses. I have written in the style of Banjo Patterson because it seemed appropriate to the setting and I like him. Allegedly, this was the first wedding in Wooli for thirty years.

In Wooli east of Grafton town,

a wedding was proclaimed.

They came from far and near to see

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We both knew that you were lying

in perfect bliss of truest love.

Love that bound us, love undying,

fitting like a velvet glove.

All you fibs are wildly porcine,

persistently you mendicate.

Reclining in a way so feline,

wishing now to procreate.

Skulking in our sty so private,

hatchway blocked against the world.

Building up a steamy climate,

ever more untruths unfurled.

Together in ete...

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Dear Christopher,

your dome is lovely.

How proud I'd be,

to be Saint Paul.

Now could you just,

fix this carbuncle,

and make it fit

for us to use.

Some carvings and

some ornate windows,

topped with

gorgeous curlicues,

should turn this ghastly

glass and concrete,

into some resplendent mews.

A final point,

please make it Princely,

with feathered crests

of whitest hues.

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 Andy is a rocking horse

He's made of wood right through of course.

This tree born life is very plain,

There is no room for any brain.

Seductive is the pretty horse.

Its movement takes beguiling course.

The graceful trot goes on and on,

But look for progress. There is none.

Look, behind the smiling face

Lie knotted cells in rigid place.

Andy is a rocking horse.

He's nothing mo...

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From Eden to Gethsemene,

and weedy lawn beneath my feet.

The serpentine seducer works on now.

There's knowledge deep inside those plants,

to eat and learn what's bad. But,

However bad the pain in your stomach,

the angles of a triangle

still add up to 180 degrees.

Consuming passion

soaks through the senses,

and anaesthetises awareness

of a disjointed world.

"I was riding my bicy...

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Ali was an agitator,

All around her grew to hate her.

A shrieking, scowling, grim dictator,

She drove quite mad her poor, dear pater.

His heart became a palpitator,

Fluttering, then stopping later.

As dad went blue, the perpetrator,

Horrid Ali, devastator,

Switched off his defibrilator.

Ali's mum then met a waiter.

Evil Ali, desecrator,

Bought a baby aligator.

Ali loved the little 'gator.

Fed him up 'til he wa...

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Left at birth,

My brain was set.

Apart from most,

I knew.

Awkward, clumsy,

Gauche indeed.

My shitty hand,

Met every need.

Defender, fending dextrous foes.

Creator, writing spider prose.

Feeder, cleaner, closest aide.

The very heart of how I'm made.

Condemned by tyrant teachers, who

Adored the neat and right.

Spurned, as of the reject few.

So, clearly not...

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The birth was unexceptional

although exotic.

Happening, as it did,

in the Far East.

An exuberant early life

attracted many glances

and some comments.

Stripped off

in a few interesting places.

But then, greying,

wrinkles, sagging.

Nothing more now than

a bit of gardening

and the odd short walk

down the local shops.

Finally,

blotched and fading,

it is the end.

Twenty one.

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