owl radiator newts

-*-

11th state anthem

it's the year 1788

New York State agrees to join that great

tax avoidance scheme the USA

man is it late

waiting while the Brits get licked or kicked

up to Canada New Amsterdam

ushers in another tribe of sly

coconut men

few Algonquin wear them ponytails

former slaves decked out in Union Jacks

Dutchmen doubled down on Redcoats' graves

bootblacks leave tips

Wall St where the first stockade withstood

Mohawk & Mohican till they fought

mutual the French & Injun War

ran out on blood

what you're saying ticker tape parades

hail or grapeshot cross Manhattan Long

Island that’s another story this

here is the song

-*-

Hershey’s chocolate heroes

Tintin-itus what a mispronounced

tick the sufferer exhibits trends

such as blind misogyny with crime

busting amends

quiff plus-fours a Crombie overcoat

retro fits the snooper to a time

hardly innocent if not beyond

taking the mick

who would daresay Dan it's fifty-nine

Eagle pecks your eye beware the pond

crossing which as well as drains your brain

points to the end

onwards pilgrim bite their heads off first

dipped in ice cream legs like 99s

hollow torsos filled with walnut whip

aniseed eyes

lick the silver foil collect the set

pressed between the leaves of annuals

Santa brings or state your preference fat

Belgian liqueurs

-*-

on Bogmouth Moor

oozing through the sluice of Bovver’s Strand

stinking rumours consecrate the ground

ditch the 4-wheel drive begin to walk

lolling around

Clarkson's homey comments take the tone

up a click but drop the pace right down

such a whiner forced to wade on bad

legs through the mire

slide’s the word your very footprints suck

all along the simply right & wrong

centrists ins & outs the compromised

died-in-the-woods

toxic cheapskates peddling raucous snide

those that lie for coppers penny shrews

rampant populists the gutter snipe

boilers of newts

low as Bogmouth sinks its height of depth

sure as folks at home you sat & watched

matchless crud purveyors meet their patch

stuck in the blood

-*-

fyeo

I have never understood the games

people play surrounding bed & board

footie I can manage but not break

fast with a broad

Stewie's got a woman on the go

shags the living daylights out of him

not for money nor for love perhaps

yoga's her thing

me I'd love to meet the likes of her

scare the evening skylights out but fun

when the kids are grown up & have gone

gonna get some

Jill was one who didn’t give a damn

Mystic Rose she went by but no man

mastered her had ruined seventeen

husbands in Spain

how the wives reacted I can't say

women always get me in a jam

keep it cool the time the place the plan

drawing away

-*-

turn to Peter

Peter's smashed the car

shagged the girlfriend ate the chips

always on your side

been through everything

after college work & play

hardly fell out once

had some up & downs

like the time in Spain he popped

all the cash on wax

but through tick & tins

buddyness endures the worst

life can throw at them

so he never thinks

twice to ask for his advice

face the Winehouse truth

Pete would know the who

what or which to sacrifice

how to skin the cat

family you see

plus the old school tie a smile

here a favour there

years of getting by

on a prayer yes go to Pete

man who knows his stuff

just a word enough

said to sort the problem out

come on Man pick up

read all about it!