by phillipw | Dec 24, 2019 | LO, SE
Love is Rather Boring The truth is, Love is Rather Boring. Write That on the walls of toilet stalls and spray It on the high fence round the jail. The blight Of uninspired graffiti will convey The message best. Monotony, the same Old stuff strung out with...
by phillipw | Dec 24, 2019 | TE
BMs All teenage boys are bored and mad, or mad And bored. (Is there a difference?) Some are bored Enough to kill. Testosterone gangs, bad And bored, don’t reckon they have really scored Till they have blasted some innocent head, Its...
by phillipw | Dec 22, 2019 | RI, VE
Therapy What herbal dram can doctors give for love? L’amour refuses treatment, runs its course. If you trip this marathon runner, shove, Impose a faltering stumble, she will force Her staggering legs to jolt along. If you Slash love’s wrists...
by phillipw | Dec 22, 2019 | NU, PR
Short-term and Long-term Fulfilment Wikipedia Those women who collaborated (fucked) With Nazi males (and females?) there in Gay Paree, who opened German trousers, sucked Out furs, foie gras, and francs along with spray From Korporals’ balls, were dragged into the...
by phillipw | Dec 20, 2019 | LO, RO
One Fierce Wish I wish that I could be allowed to change My heart for something lighter. That’s because My own is far too manly. Out of range Are hearts of moths. They know the moon and laws Of random hope and hollow searching. Tilt And flit, flit...
by phillipw | Dec 19, 2019 | GA, Ho, LO, RI, VE
Letter to his Wife They suffered from a passion like their loins Ripped open, full of pain, and gushing life Out like the plastic chips, the bastard coins (More costly than the infant Paul or wife) From this combined Las Vegas slot-machine Affair. The older...
by phillipw | Dec 19, 2019 | LO, RO
Infatuation: The Coloratura Cosmos Since you became my high-pitched sun, my world Describes its measured path through melody; The score of space is decorated, swirled By comets in orchestral harmony With spiral galaxies. The silent trees Break out with star-like...
by phillipw | Dec 19, 2019 | WH, WO
He Kept the Seventh-day Sabbath My father, Woodrow, had a thing for goats. When on Canaveral as a boy his dream Was having them as pets. Friends wanted boats, Or guns, or cars. Young Woody didn’t deem These trinkets worth consideration. Nope. He wanted kids, and...
