I’d rather
you be smart
than look
like a tart
Fashion
Bowie
shining starman
galactic eyes
this lyrical labyrinth
his myth in disguise
fallen to earth
blessed with dark voice
his majestic apparel
and intellectual poise
shy oddity
golden hair
humble chameleon
with androgynous flair
magical star lit
in a theatrical maze
graciously styled
a visual daze
talented genius
majored in Tom
gracious Jones
my musical bomb
Socks 🧦
always missing
always lost,
always missing
always lost
Poor pin
“I would like to pin my hopes on something
but I can’t keep it together…”
Dead Zipper
stuck in the middle
you’ve stopped in your tracks
you had ups and downs
but lived life to the max
Navel lint
what’s all this
what’s all that stuff
a tiny cotton tumbleweed
it’s belly button fluff
Positive proof of global warming
He’s too perfect
he’s too perfect
too well known
his threads immaculate
and quaintly shown
he’s too perfect
too good looking
his food so healthy
and he’s excellent at cooking
he’s too perfect
too kind to be mean
his house is so neat
almost ocd clean
he’s too perfect
too perfect to match
he dodges all intimacy
and is impossible to catch
Your familiar smile
delicate
is your face
as you reveal
its grace
when you compliment it
with your gentle
fragile presence
and your familiar smile
Vintro
old trash rekindled
revived to retro
pulled out the dumps
straight from the ghetto
air is all stale
table and chair
piled up for sale
at a price above fair
rusty lock
industrial lamps
seventies stock
give me the cramps
revamped to junk
in battered trunk
fresh antique
tres new chic
rehabilitated
vintaged venerable stuff
resold as hype
I’ve had enough
Slap on
slap on
some makeup
cover thy face
mask all the natural
do it
with grace…
Defective Daisy
defective Daisy
was insane
plain crazy
stuck in a fog
everything hazy
out of whack
her wires crossed
trying to find
her marbles
gone lost
she was committed
as she couldn’t hack it
tried to fit
and did
in a straight jacket
Black Friday
feed me greed
and I shall gladly bleed
Itchy label
aggravated
I try to scratch
my back
but I’m unable
to stop
the provoking tickle
of that bloody
itchy label
The tailor to his thread 🧵
‘Nothing
is what it seams’
Amber heard
Amber
heard
it all before
as she threw
old Johnny
right out
the door
Excremental morning
look up
watch out
a falling turd
shat on
by a shitting bird
your black dress
stained
by flying poo
what are you
going to do
Witty words 