Bernie’s in my street again,
Wool-hatted, no coat,
Puffing after a shoplifter,
School-uniformed, to an extent.
‘Give up, you old cunt!’
Bernie gets to a white Corsa
And he leans, and he coughs,
Then raises two fingers.
A quaint gesture against the age.
I have a guest coming over The apple of my eye The object of my lust The pest control guy There’s just something about him As I peer...
Eat my heart And all its trappings Take it while it still beats. Eat. Within its chords are our days, Each more fleeting than the last....
From a very young age I was made to help, Hold, support, and heal. I was good at my role. But what no one understands Even though I act...
Comments