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Egg Punk

Don’t fuck with me
I’ve got nineteen teeth
(and they’re not even mine)

I’ve got slapstick
feeling and ripped

I’ve got a rhythm
of sickness
and two
dead cats.

War I love you:
I’ve learnt to accept
the bomb,
and now it’s kind of fun.

I’ve got different
ideas for what society
should be

and I promise you-
none of them involve

mostly just
sitting in bed
and drinking
natural wines-

what I’ve done
to myself,
with the organics
and the greenery

I even quit smoking
(it’s nuts how bored you get of it,
though I think I may be
the boring one now)

Lenin I love you,
it’s a shame what they’ve done
to your country

I have a statue of you
in my room-
it’s a bit of a nightmare
because it takes up all the space
and I have to sleep
on the floor

I don’t mind,
if I get to stay by you, Lenin,
and stroke your feet
in pure, filthy

I’ve got knives on both sides,
I’ve got tears (in both eyes),
I’ve got blood on my hands
I’ve got no rhyme in this line (sorry)

What would I do without the bolsheviks!
I met them in the square
quite a few many odd years ago
where I got shot
with the bullet
that has never dislodged itself-
I met you in a TV ad,
they auctioned you off,
American programme style,
twenty one twenty two twenty
I paid a fifty three thousand
for you
(which could’ve gone to my mortgage)

I want you in prison with me;
we can hold hands in
lesbian repartee-

I will have been arrested
for my criminally poor
chess playing

–and losing all my money
in the casino

(an extra year
for playing Radiohead
on the jukebox)

I am thirst personified,
I’ve got a giant bottle
of diet coke,
and I drink it like it’s water.

Take heed, young gentlemen!
I flop like a
3D water model
and fuck
like a woman
who likes women.

Where was I in the 80’s?
Undead, at a punk gig,
I had released myself
all over the place,
and no that doesn’t mean
anything at all.

Where was I last week?
If I knew I’d tell you,
I can scarcely remember
and that’s because it’s not important.

Nothing’s important!
It all means absolutely
fuck all

It’s about as satisfactory
as a warm foamy pint

what you make of yourself-

and I do apologise,
I really do,
that you’re looking for meaning
where there is none;

I’ve spent twenty minutes writing this
and it literally means

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