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deepundergroundpoetry.com

My Bong

My Bong
Eeeey it’s a lovely thing
Dirty but it’s not like it’s got to be too clean
I keep sucking up the insightment
But it keeps fucking up my plight cos
I was heaven sent
Ha ha!
More like hell bent
On picking up the commended, shattered pieces
The meat is so tender if you batter their fleeces
Oh shit, I implore, what am I on about?
Somebody pour my bong a stout
Yep  
“Ah lick’d off da grit; ah cut yah butt only a bit”
Oh shut it you crony old git
Ah yes the bong, people won’t you listen now?
Sing along
I don’t know who I’m kissing now but I could go for a frantic fling
Plus I think it’s the ghost of Janis Joplin, she agrees but I scream “I can’t!”  
 She’s too ladylike that ain’t no ghost, it’s just Robert Plant  
Written by Alastair (Alas...a tear)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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