Fudge–Wrinkles In A Turd

Windows, windows!
The light streams in!
Curtains pulled in twain,
Reveal the orb.

Much too deep,
And serious.
Use a Caramac,
To wipe my arse,
Then sodomise,
Your cousin.
Aah, equilibrium!

Went forth,
To wage war,
In Bognor Regis,
With raging queers.
Cut their dicks off!
Filthy shit-stabbers!

Mu-ha-ha-haaa!
Beryl.
We tried,
And failed.
Be reet!

Fuck off!
Mong!

Dissecting Deborah–Frostbitten Toenails

Twelve miles,
In spandex kecks.
Testicular origami,
Abounds.

Wise old bastard,
Toasts his bread,
On one side,
And butters the one,
Untoasted.

Fish fingers.
Smimpoliwash,
Derek Jacobi,
Of farts and winnets.

Wash,
The impurities,
From your pubes.
Touch your toes,
And eat your spinach.

Driven by,
A Ford Transit,
Into a brothel.
Bind your hands,
With barbed wire.

An Unexpected Turn of Events–Went Untold In Carlisle

Spongy in texture.
Frothy in nature.
Dexterous in appearance.
Oaken in aroma.
A wilted flower,
Some might say,
But not me.
I think it’s shit!

Your revenge,
Sweet as it may feel,
Shan’t last,
And you will be,
The one who suffers,
When all is said,
And done.

Ladel on the cheese;
Spread it thick,
Like your lies,
And barbed platitudes.
Rise from the ashes,
Of despair.

Win again the day,
Like you once did,
But be modest,
And noble,
In victory.

Oops!
I just shat,
My pants…

Only N Words–Can Use the N Word

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.

Weird Washing–English People Are Wankers!

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.

Snogging Jesus–Behind the Bike Sheds

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…

Veni Vidi Vici–Trousers

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.

Lizard Buggery–What Became of Jethro?

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!

I’m A Better Poet Than You–Fucking Fact Mate!

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…