Bitter

 

Mines a pint cried the fat man.

No need to cry, it’s on its way!

Ready in five came the steadfast reply.

Bitter today?

Idiots causing life to change;

Change!

Look at your hairdo, your suit, your beard!

Stupid old man!

Move on to move on,

Lucrative styling, ludicrous style.

Grab the cliché and fins an island in the sun.

Is it possible?

Will she come with me?

Or do I leave her with the sausage makers,

Their height of creativity a Cumberland?

Cumbersome travels.

Move on to move on!

She said it again; I listened.

It glistened;

The island in the sun.

 

Advertisements
This entry was posted in writing. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s