Thursday, 14 November 2013



I certainly have volunteered
to these tyrannies
That force me outside my self control
Into obscenity

I threw the handle at the tin shed
It went right through
If I were coarser it would hit you
And you be fallen

If I were true I would confess
To over duress
The voices pressing on a nerve
Ever sensitive

And now the more with what I store
Anger slushing
Like the shit that's been stewing
Until it becomes

An overwhelming gaseous storm
Bursting forth rage
The venerable sage becomes
A loathsome ape

But at least he is free.

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