Edwin Saxton–The Poeming Genius
Poeming is for life. And pretentious cunts! And weirdos. I'm a bit of everything…
We’ve run out,
Of lice pictures.
Lice pictures.
Lice pictures.
Willpower,
Alone,
Won’t pick,
The toast up,
Off the floor.
Do Tibetan monks,
Fart?
Good old Hitler.
Steve Hitler,
From Felixstowe,
Fixed my microwave.
I highly recommend him.
Jackie leafed,
Through some documents.
And Barry wants,
To see your wife’s,
Ti… taxes!
Flexys Cefn Druids.
Dippy-dippy-doppy;
I’ll make up,
A word:
Klufarnax.
Six letters.
The clue:
Ironmonger.
I don’t know,
That one.
Will have to,
Spell it wrong.
Vzzzbx.
Finger in my bum;
Maybe a thumb;
The faster it’s done,
The harder I come.
Gimme a blowjob;
It’s better than no job.
Dig a trench.
At the end of the day,
A piece of shit.
The farmer’s wife’s,
Massive tits,
Droop in my face;
Suffocating.
Raunchy slag!
Punch the donkey,
In its cunt.
Denial of access;
The door,
Slams shut.
Brian cries out;
His foreskin,
Trapped by,
The closure.
Beads, beads, beads,
Beads, beads, beads,
Anal beads, beads, beads.
Feeling stabby,
And throat punchy.
Eggy fart,
Wafting through,
The hamster.
Tits McGee,
Chesty LaRue,
Top bollocks,
Breasts.
And lager.
And LSD.
Hahahaha.
Dead puppies.
I shit you not!
Yay!
Minge-lip service…
Stop!
Did you,
Ever,
In your life,
Once,
Or twice,
Roundhouse,
A stranger’s,
Newborn baby?
You should,
Go to the shop,
And buy me,
Some tinnies,
A Double Decker,
And a gram of charly.
Poppers,
On the radiator.
Gaping arseholes;
Slipping in shit.
Some in your mouth.
Ramp it up.
Finger your gran,
For her heinous crimes.
Silly slag!
Granny’s dropping tits.
Before sleep,
Engulfs me,
And causes me,
To dream of,
Getting fisted,
By a black,
Bear,
I’ll leave this here…
Shoot your enemy.
Shoot them,
In the face!
Make bad people,
Suffer and bleed.
Torture them;
Disfigure them;
Maim them;
Rape them!
Let them know that,
Consequences,
Of poor choices,
Are a bitch!
I need a shag!
Nudge, nudge;
Wink, wink.
It’s feeding time,
For Godfrey.
A bollock-only diet.
Piss in my arse.
You smell of,
Ethanol,
And sperm.
A bus ride,
To Barnet,
Became the trip,
Of a lifetime,
For Maurice.
Straddle my face;
Place a bollock,
On each of my eyes.
Arabian goggles,
Initiated.
Fish fingers.
Wash your,
Twat!
Underneath,
It all,
I’m a bigger,
Knobhead,
Than I appear.
Hold on,
To yer twat!
One lump,
Or two,
Of cocaine,
In your brew?
Brain hemorrhage.
Why isn’t dressage,
Pronounced dressij?
You have one new message.
Message one:
Uncle John.
Solomón Rondón.
Forever on,
And on,
And on,
And Ariston.
Drink your clam juice.
Slack and loose.
My neck’s in your noose;
Let’s call a truce.
Say the score is deuce.
Ungrateful brat!
Daft little twat!
Fingered a cat,
Punched a bat,
Put on a hat,
Called your mam fat.
Stop and think.
Take a drink.
I’m into kink,
And wearing mink.
Two in the pink,
One in the stink.
Abortion.
Haha…
I remember,
When I died.
24th September,
1977.
I overdosed,
On Cornflakes.
Tee-hee-hee.
I can see,
Reight up your skirt.
Big, hairy fanny!
Bagheri Phani.
Gelsenkirchen.
I think that’s,
How it’s spelt.
Magnanimous.
Magnus Magnusson.
Brien O’Brien.
Wolfgang Wolf.
Hammond.J.Hammond Enterprises.
J.C.Balls & Son.
We were,
Then we weren’t.
Shut the fuck up!
She was,
A Nigerian girl.
He was,
A Welsh prick!
She told him,
To fuck off,
Because he was,
An absolute dick!
Here comes Barry,
On a donkey.
A slight return,
To days of yore.
Lemon sponge.
Pissflaps,
Reign in this,
Dank, dark town.
Sweaty bollocks.
What if,
I said,
Beetlejuice,
Beetlejuice,
Beetlejuice,
Then,
Candyman,
Candyman,
Candyman,
Into a mirror,
Immediately after?
Fat people,
Should be shot.
A horse!
A horse!
My kingdom for,
A horse!
Smell the cheese.
Arse crack hair,
A stinky slit,
A cheesy knob,
And a pair o’ tits.
Ripping the head off it,
Again!
Where da hot chicks at?
Grimsby!
Sperm in your rectum;
Gay!
Harry the Bastard,
Will give you,
A fiver for it.
Faaaaaaaaart…
Git ‘cho groove on,
Bitches!
Touch my balls.
Now get off them.
You’re ‘angin’!
Grimsby?
