Hudds, w.yorks, 13th August some time past midnight. Elbow hurty.
I know that face, through the paned shop
Thy holy sanctuary of fried chicken and kebab meat?
— what is it made of —
Eating cheesy chips i spy,
Conversation strikes, I spout ‘fuck the tories’
She concurs betwixt mouthfuls of oozy greasy cheese
But i Wad wonder on a wanton weary wing? Who?
Burns… OW! HOT! HOT! HOT!
Ye little fucker, you cheesy chip
I address you cheesy chip:
Yellow, beige, cheap enriched in milked goodness
Such stench reeks! — more pungent than…
Petrichor
Rain …. Will it rain? Elbow hurts, bleeding a tad
Why did I have to fall
Sing-song girl i know your face alas
I address you cheesy chip:
Oh ye cheesy chip
Great chiefton o’ the drunken race,
Donner kebab, ay
Lest we forget thy scorching pizza
HOT HOT HOT scorching me mouth
I cant feel my face or mouth now
Midnight has long past and the spell gone
I leave no glass slipper by the curb only vomit
Fair maiden adieu my chariot arrives
My Royal Taxi to sing me to slumber and morning headaches
ether writes 