Monday, January 08, 2007

Billy Boast & The Loose-Eyed Lady: A Panegyric To The Post-Avant.

At the South Coast hog roast Billy Boast nearly toast
overdosed on glasnost saw his ghost past the post
last post lamp post bed post evening post
evening all waterfall basketball chainsaw

from the Albert Halls to Arkansas
done it all know it all
walktall bigsmall
freefall at the paintball
veg stall curved ball up against the Wailing Wall
better give his Mum a call no more jobs at Vauxhall
nothing on the eight ball pockets full of bugger all

he’s getting over it
wait a bit
lowered kit
double knit armpit faglit unfit
look at her working it looking fit dress slit:
‘Take me to your bedsit? Biscuit? Risk it? Rarebit? Pomfrit?
Twiglet? Niblet? Titbit? Wotsit? Wiggle it a little bit?’

Well she’s a pronoun
on the town
an up and down
green pound
a bodyhound lost and found nightly crowned queen of sound
home fore he can turn around drinks downed hands bound
half an hour of hare and hound helps herself to folding brown

Well he couldn’t unwind it was a real bind
he felt undermined and columbined
redefined red-lined Rick Steined Patsy Klined
woodbined colourblind never mind the bacon rind
porcupined grapevined bottom lined and much maligned.

Well he was mystified
red-eyed pork-pied legs wide crucified
panfried setaside powerglide penicide
disapplied undenied tightly tied and offside.

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