PENCIL NECK GEEKS YOU ARE,
NEVER GONNA GET TO FAR,
MAYBE MEET A HO IN A BAR,
THEN TAKE HER HOME IN YOUR CAR
THEN THE U.S. AND IRAQ AT WAR
YOU HAVE GONE TOO FAR,
SHMIZZLE SHMAZZLE SHMARRR

Shizm my Nizm,
Wankstagankstamasta

sexually frustrated is a punk,
smells like a skunk,
with no slam dunk,
what a chump,
on the head is a bump,
he is a lump

crows and a vulture
sharing same squirrel, maybe we
can all get along

so i returned from
new orleans...jazz fest, there's
no words for it all.....

except....fuck off moxie!

Nearly seven years -
I certainly deserve this,
but this can't go on...

That shouldn't take so long...
One year became three, then six -
Please, please, have this stop!

I'll rephrase it here:
how long can this mad story
keep go on like this?

Ten years old is fun,
then twenty, thirty, forty.
What does happen then?

If everyone knew
about the drinking and the sex
they

Ich habe den Affe
Und es ist schneller als dich
Aber nicht so gro

Entschldigung aber das ist Schei

Ich bin ein Student
Aber ich studiert?
Nein, Ich trinke gern

If non of this lot
appeals you had better keep
studying ASS OFF

Or better still join
a church and become an new
age evangelist

You don

Be smart marry a
rich girl and become a sponge
off her family

Give all up have some
fun, that

But it

Study brings its own
Rewards, bad breath, hair loss
and a job you hate

Time ticks by and wham!
Suddenly you are sixty
Where the hell life gone?

damn i spoke to soon
it's all good i'm buying time
instead of working...

wow hey look at that
all were written on the odd
just like i like it!!!

Hot Hot Heat rock on
oh who left the door unlocked
she's not a secret.

a test tomorrow
i'm studying with the moon
and drinking V8!

finished my paper
now on to the next hell hole
critical thinking...

damn that sigmund freud
he sure smoked to much cocaine
had sex on the brain.

first we're the people
our parents warned us about
then we're our parents

swinging pendulum
the neverending tick tock
till death do i part

boundaries are blurred
where does a mirror finish
which object is real

a closet dweller
or a fucked up psychopath
how are we alike

we are each other
so i could hardly hate you
although i could try

i'm in the closet
sexual ambivalence
makes hostile haiku

when you do your thing
you're making fun of my thing
also vice versa

you control meter
making geriatric poems
where's your blood and guts

i am a mirror
reflections of other lives
and none of my own

get your own thing
plenty of mine to go round
here, take some, with love

you may do my thing
although you are redundant
i can do my thing

my thoughts on arseholes ?
i don't have a policy
each case on merit

i can do your thing
more powerfully than you can
but there's still JV

iambic asshole
if you can't have stress unstress
you might as well die

look at my rhythm
so mellifluous and smooth
but emptiness reigns

like a worn out shell
using form without content
go sell insurance

what graceful haiku
but it signifies nothing
poop has more meaning

metaphor a day
we spent the night together
well well well well well

i am contrary
i am most disappointed
nobody loves me

though you dis my style
jealous that you haven't one
keep working at it

whatever you say
i enjoy good company
and variety

i am not myself
i wish my dick was bigger
i pretend i don't

i am middle aged
my sad life has been wasted
oh well, i'll die soon