Poetry Corner
B R A N D N E W F U D
B R A N D N E W F U D
theRe ,
iN thE tiLeD whiTeNeSS
oF thE LadiEs’ LaVatoRiuM ,
I spoTTeD daNieLLe agaiN –
shE haS croSSed heR threShoLD
anD broKeN natuRe’S mouLd . shE
wanTs mE tO sEE thE surGeRY sO
wE diSaPPeaR intO a cubiCLe . shE
hiTchEs uP heR skiRT anD suDDenLy
I faCE a neW cuNT –
aN inSidE-ouTsiDe-iN wiLLy .
I kiSS heR anD I wanT heR theRe
oN thE porCeLaiN anD plaSTiC .
I reLeasE a hoRmONe-sweLLeD breaSt
anD suCKLe niPPLe whilsT knEELinG beTwEEn
hER smOOtH dePiLateD LeGS…
buT nO moRe.
aH I kneW thiS wAs goinG tO paSS
mE bY thE stRonG seNsE oF purPosE
aS I droVe acroSS
waterLOO briDgE
LasT niGhT .
Ben Browton (a.k.a. Seymour Bybuss) Sludgeness-On-Sea – tMx 30 – 06/07
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trakMARX 30 — August 2007 — The Final Solution?
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