Here I sit,
at my word pro,
the white space
staring me down,
but not out.
I experiment,
juxtaposing
pseudo-random words
into pretentious,
premeditated
poetry.
Then with an afflatus,
words flow,
whispered by my muse,
into lines and stanzas.
Life’s A Beach
I am not you.
You are not me.
Me, myself and I will get alone just fine.
Fine for that is life.
Life in the suburbs is sedate.
Sedated in the psych. wards.
Wardrobe looks a little bare.
Bare all at the beach.
Merchant Banker
Merchant banker
willie wanker
likes to spank her
can’t thank her
change the lock
adjust the clock
darn my sock
suck my cock