new poem: its hard to saunter with a stauner

its hard to saunter with a stauner

check out the hair on the heir
inveterate liar hiding in his lair
its hard to saunter with a stauner
the bus fare was incredibly fair

this mince n tatties, sweetheart, really is the shit
pair of twats blootered on cider one hundred percent pear
their morals found rotting somewhere over there
bare arsed cheeks too much to bear

gods envoked it pisses down cats and dogs 
races enrich bookies save the occasional scare
hoses deployed wash away tattie shaw shoes
crate of powder disappeared no discernible trace

gangsters rage about stolen gear
hips fluid bosun takes a pish over the side of the ship
corpulent swine fat fuck a ducks quaffing their wines
dust mites of relativity might smite the editor of The Times

wary of things going spectacularly awry
ream of cloth plummets flattens escaped mare
flares double denim shades such nonchalant flair
wears it well, she does…I swear

flesh slithered free from the second top shelf
felt for a pulse but nothing was left
spark up in the dark at the side of the parks
darken my door youll find me fuckin narked

live fast, vile human, circuit is live
die young, sweetheart, hair never seen dye
who loots the barn tools for a milking stool?
open your mind, nope too late, tail of a tale too old

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