Jerrybaldy
06-24-2011, 07:01 PM
Two fat ladies, 88,
only one to go, when Mrs Blue Rinse
gets the line.
I down my rum and black in anger
and itch my leg ulcer.
I could smoke here once.
a ciggie and a drink,
nothing could be finer
on five and nine
the Brighton line.
I smoke on the walk home in the rain,
clouds beneath my brolly,
worn shoes in black puddles.
Two fat ladies could have saved me
for ever more
from chip fat
and decline
but Mrs Blue Rinse got the line.
I hope her fanny festers
as I open my door
to cat litter
and radiators
littered with underwear.
I was beautiful once.
only one to go, when Mrs Blue Rinse
gets the line.
I down my rum and black in anger
and itch my leg ulcer.
I could smoke here once.
a ciggie and a drink,
nothing could be finer
on five and nine
the Brighton line.
I smoke on the walk home in the rain,
clouds beneath my brolly,
worn shoes in black puddles.
Two fat ladies could have saved me
for ever more
from chip fat
and decline
but Mrs Blue Rinse got the line.
I hope her fanny festers
as I open my door
to cat litter
and radiators
littered with underwear.
I was beautiful once.