Beagle street

Piss stained streets with Rose Hip notes

Bleached purple hair and sky blue coats.

The old cunts stand demanding respect

Their wrinkled flesh filled with regret.

A click of wood as cripples weave

Around their paths survivors grieve

The loss of all things good and well

It’s gone for good, oh what the hell?

A bark so strange it all sounds wrong

A beagle shouts, before too long

Another crock of bones appears

Reviving all my putrid fears.

I came today to use the post

Not drink some tea and eat some toast

But fuck! There’s nothing else to do

Cept write my thoughts and think of you!

Genetic pronouns, yes I know

This ode’s for all, and there you go

A feel good piece of text it’s not

But as you know, it’s all I’ve got

My patience’s gone, I feel my ire

I’ll light my match and watch the fire.

And smell the piss stained streets erupt

And kick those ashes so corrupt.