Consequences

There's a hole in the side of the fifty-pound note
Big enough for the fattest of creatures to quote
When I asked how they wanted to fill it all in
They said 'bring us the contents of your smelliest bin'

So I emptied a hatful of stocks on their stairs
And I carried the numbers to the right of their shares
So that Blackpool and Cannock should both be informed
Of the breadth and the width of the slightly deformed

But they creased and they crinkled and then they declared
That the breadth and the width were the aspects they shared
And they threw a cream soda at the Chancellor's car
Which prompted a tadpole locked up in a jar

To sing: which he did, and I cannot repeat
With verisimilitude this mighty feat
For his words, being inside the vessel forenamed
Were truncated: or that's what the tadpole exclaimed.

Nightmowing

Nightmowing
Deserves a quiet night
I've got to make some hay
Before the break of day

Pantheon Psmythe

Private Property

You can never go back.

Not now
Not ever

Memories may be there,
But you certainly aren't.

A teenage hang out
A place for fun
Discovery
Forgetfulness will never come
Where a girlfriend was found
Innocence was lost
Memories aboud
Go back at your cost

Do not return
For now it is dug up
One big furrow
As you run out of luck
In the ground there
A signpost
You smoke and stare
"Private Property"

Nemesis Watson