Wednesday, 1 November 2017

posthumous toads


eat death

two in one I swatted pests today
crept upon their trysts & made them pay
double death for feasting side by side
howzat I cried

while they hesitated loathe to leave
one alone the pests ignored my cleave
swinging high above their eyes I closed
honking like Toad

death to all that dare to flout my rule
lord of youse whose airspace I control
come in pairs or threesomes if it suits
wed to my hoots


wet dream of the common toad

I was a hump-backed frog at Oxford
no one kissed me there my inner prince
lurked below in ponds the skaters worked
deaf to my grin

ain't too late to look me down my dear
toe the ice & tickle undergrown
algae pink step in there's nowt to fear
blind to my green

poison well & drowning fair enough
Danger Toad's my middle name I swam
backwards through two civil wars the rough
numb to my gun

hold me tight & warm me with your blood
see this nightmare out till croaks at dawn
feel the wisdom oozing from the wood
dumb to my gloom

just a peck you'll suffer no regrets
tunes will bubble while I sing your song
taste these lips before the full moon sets
dead to my gong


you wanna reason

Daddy was a robber didn't kill
no one though he once ran down a cop
banks and racketeering were his thrill
over the top

papers say a bingo calling drilled
peace of mind into him but it stopped
short of a cure guess his crimes just spilled
over he topped

wanted lists in umpteen states not bald
shaved his mop Yul Brynner style & fopped
bony headed a charmer who called
barley when copped

almost made public enemy one
covetted slot for those on the run
willed that honour to his eldest son
bundle of fun

where you take it is right to the stop
crime never paid off in dollar bills
oldest way to get on top is thrills
over your pop


no title few deeds

insects squabble here above my head
buzzing off they snag what little hair
time & genes repair good sir you're dead
give me the air

heat is not a thing most British bear
well though I am tolerably staid
even forty centigrade I swear
leaves me unfazed

flies apart I swelter happy days
far from cold & shudder going there
where it's ten or twelve in August pray
give me your airs

London Derry Welsh or Scots don't care
tunes I'll clap to throw the key away
sing by heart but not the temperature
leave that at bay

sea & sun the summer long it takes
all I have to hang my hat down here
titles none few deeds but still I say
give me the air

Archie Locost (attrib.)

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