deepundergroundpoetry.com
Somewhere
Somewhere there are riots, there are tears, there is torment
Libyans take to the street and chant
Somali pirates show no mercy
Someone is rebuilding Haiti
and somewhere Sarkozy is trying to create a secular society
- pity his wife likes to wear a crucifix at public events.
At this moment, the American mink is colonising the home of Irn-bru
Princes is killing dolphins so that you can eat your canned tuna
Chewing gum is eroding a stomach lining
and Boots has begun selling DIY DNA kits.
The Dog man and the Bird woman are debating animal rights
- i say leave the rights to the animals.
Always is a strange and non-sensical concept.
But, if i had an always, i would think, feel and respire.
The always of Madame société consists merely of decay, sex and chemical reactions.
Now, as i speak, children give birth to children, chavs knock back cider at the bus stop and stereotypical blackley girls live up to their reputation.
I rigorously plan my avoidance of St. Anne's square and silently consider why a box of pop tarts costs £2.63.
I've been robbed.
As you listen, society's lost prophets pop starz, Paris Hilton wannabes start the maple syrup diet, eastenders gets more complaints and
someone is in the common room disgraced by the price of hot vimto.
Libyans take to the street and chant
Somali pirates show no mercy
Someone is rebuilding Haiti
and somewhere Sarkozy is trying to create a secular society
- pity his wife likes to wear a crucifix at public events.
At this moment, the American mink is colonising the home of Irn-bru
Princes is killing dolphins so that you can eat your canned tuna
Chewing gum is eroding a stomach lining
and Boots has begun selling DIY DNA kits.
The Dog man and the Bird woman are debating animal rights
- i say leave the rights to the animals.
Always is a strange and non-sensical concept.
But, if i had an always, i would think, feel and respire.
The always of Madame société consists merely of decay, sex and chemical reactions.
Now, as i speak, children give birth to children, chavs knock back cider at the bus stop and stereotypical blackley girls live up to their reputation.
I rigorously plan my avoidance of St. Anne's square and silently consider why a box of pop tarts costs £2.63.
I've been robbed.
As you listen, society's lost prophets pop starz, Paris Hilton wannabes start the maple syrup diet, eastenders gets more complaints and
someone is in the common room disgraced by the price of hot vimto.
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