The Toilet Papers
of Avery Stoneware
nags were flogged to pen these lines
dogs denied their bark
trees pulled up & airstrips laid
Coming out as shite takes a toll, folks,
but it’s for the best in the long run… half a century, in my case. Back in the
80s, when I would still post lines of doom to newspapers, I got an intimation
of how things really stood. I’d sent a piece to The Guardian - some two-legs-pull on the Thatcher govt…
anyroad, the reply came back as per usual, returning my work with a slip
thanking me for the contribution - and warning how rarely they published
upstarts. Which was all about par, ’cept for a scrap of cheap pink toilet paper
gluesticked to the corner of the manuscript. I should acknowledge The Grauniad
for inspiring a detail of my costume for the act in those days: a length of
folded bogroll stuffed in the top pocket of the owl demob jacket – ’stead of the trad silk hanky. Yeah, cos
even back in 1983, I was embracing shite, albeit as crap actor and no-mark
songster.
royal flush
cake’n’eat it folks
coconut but shy
no one blue or white
on the inside
wannabe a cat
go the palace squat
with the king he’s fly
also a swot
where you honeys from
answers on a form
hand them in then buzz
off with a stun
gun salute they’ll in
vest you ladybird
damsel fly or bat
girl you’ve been heard
otherwise the owl
order of the boot
worn without a scowl
counting your loot
reality snubbed
hands off Der Scheitland Allgemeine
high-heeled fairies cobble blue
singalongs where elves
sewing Plexiglas for big
bad imagination whores
whose corruption steals
youngsters’ minds while elders’ big
talk of juxtaposing war
peace & literature
stripped like nurses gloves galore
blighting soldiers’ fantasies
keep them homefires bored
houseboys txting sex at tea
time to win or score a draw
down the curtain Maud
slinging fairies sing a blues
dyslexicon rules
what were snail polish again
sorry but my brains have fried
please bear with me at this time
Shufflebum cried
thinking hurts the word shellac
gave me quite a turn just now
licker lacquer look-a-likes
all in a row
my apologies absurd
terms have turfed my insides out
talking fifty years of hard
digging by hand
everything will be ok
when I’ve got these meanings squeezed
safely in & out of place
then we’ll get off
meantime started something there
molluscs leaving shiny trails
over garden tableware
someplace in Wales
nudistopia
if Napoleon the Fifth escapes
from the Falklands stroke Malvinas Camp
with their gang of criminals & perves
then we’ll be screwed
all our right-on hopes for love & peace
shall be dashed as we recruit a new
border force & anti-social squad
ready to go
safety uniforms will be designed
scouts’n’guides with bigger sticks &
stones
hold parades then boarding ships &
planes
head for the lines
fighting will break out the sirens blare
certain territories shall secede
Global President Irene propose
holding a vote
standing on the brink of anarchy
folks shall face the awful choice of death
over life imprisonment for bad
people & bores
over there
aircraft carriers arrive to breed
dazzle ships or cruisers basking subs
sleek torpedo boats & rusty mine
sweepers look on
jealous while the carriers exchange
monoplane & autogiro swoops
navy lark enthusiasts on surf
boards undercut
landing decks ahead astern a long
side from time to time they stream their
acts
live from Google glass the stakes are high
fame to be won
from the comfy chairs of home we gaze
wonderstruck towards the Coral Sea
Midway Island passing Tuvalu
hooked on the scenes
when the season ends what shall we do
binge the replays scour match reports
volunteer for service take the test
nothing to lose
lunatic blues
round about the time the moon
handed in their notice quit
orbiting the earth & spun
off on a sulk
keep that date in mind we’ll come
back to it before the end
windmills ceased to turn the tides
stopped in their tracks
most astrologists went broke
though the days are just as long
short or in between the sun
shines on a roll
weatherwise we’ve had a blast
since a boom in ice cream sales
Eskimos are buying deep
freezers on tick
but the calendar has gone
haywire no one smiles or cares
how they feel & what’s more birds
sing out of tune
big toe little feat
playing footsie undermines
Putin’s stated aims
but his homophobia
can’t disguise the bath house man’s
man or why he sits
seven metres opposite
those who summit at his den
cos a twitchy foot
often plagues this burly chill
blain denier you can tell
Russians by the snow
on their boots our grandad said
he would coco having shared
prison camps with them
at the close of WW1
noise farm blues
after the stench
when the world wakes up to crime
doesn’t pay & other laughs
comes the sound of earworms
gnawing on brains
whistling dirging airs like ho
hum it’s back to work they bum
from the Brothers Grimm cos look
sleeping’s no beut
upbeat fairytale the plot
turns on broken bowls of gruel
Goldilocks gone grey one night
door left ajar
careless bears come home to find
their demented orphan fled
while they howl the forest burns
down to the ground
where the mics like asphodels
sprout to catch the sounds & make
electricity no end
RIP the badguys
thankgod Putin’s nearly done
Stalin started killing young
Adolf Hitler came of age
during the putsch
not that folks from Şam would care
that’s Damascus by the bye
or Aleppo Bloodymire
woulda been five
pulling legs off spidermen
crushing spies between his paws
sending hitmen out on walks
still in his pram
though these lines will never go
right between his eyes it’s sad
those that stay on Blogger lurk
mostly inert
worse a verse can do is curse
one pathetic use of words
flinging pointlessly absurd
virtual turds
war of the wokes
sausage riot rolls
veggie versus vegan mock
bloodbaths all the rage
what’s the beef in soya cheese
sage & onion crumbs
beetroot stamps on cochineal
not a mutiny
like Calcutta still a black
hole by some accounts
can’t they just agree what tastes
best is let the beast
out & fight on neutral ground
drones v robos break
bread with wine not Molotovs
over scrambled heads
the professor’s muse
splitting the heirs to infinity was not her
bag
she suffered impertinence with a satisfied
look
wore pepper & salt without a hint of
stuff
and granted me little in the way of pluck
I suspect she thought I was a frightful
bore
though she’d never have used such terms
both of us working class snobs to the core
we turned our noses up at each other
when told how I was anti-nuclear
her whole body gave off a slight huff
and that my father helped to build the subs
shrugged as if to ask so what would you
expect
but her writing was another thing
that piece on terminating a baby
almost says it all which is enough
Internet warts
take me away
lock me up for writing this
scurrilousness gotta say
Erdy no one’s gonna miss
them & their cats
time they left this place in peace
stead of gaoling democrats
face the music of defeat
talkin both sides
house of cardsharps versus true
liars choice is who decides
zooming Muslim Christian Jew
all the above
plus the communards & wild
swimmers on the Bosphorus
dodging submarines & mines
pray to yer gods
yep the Internet of things
roll the dice & split the odds
oh & have another think
another gunk rhyme
let’s make fun not worn
out responses like
politician pawn
stars on the mic
I’m from Merseyside
done my share of harm
spot the truth in lies
eye of the storm
happiness a warm
gun as Lennon cried
off to join his mum
word to the wise
something always dies
when you buy a gun
close your stupid eyes
turn to the Sun
open at page one
get the biggest prize
you’ve already won
sentenced to life
ding-dang-morally-on-high
’tis a season bad of will
Father Ivan & their ilk
raging well beyond the pale
filching of milk
for the sakes of cock & bull
let’s be honest to the hilt
with our friends against the wall
share in the guilt
time to don the motley fool
look a neighbour’s blood was spilled
join the corruscating owl
speechwriters’ guild
put the ploughshares up for sale
building vessels double hulled
while we pass the begging bowl
love is annulled
aye the tale they tell is tall
waging war for peace but gold
blow the whistle ring the bell
Christmas on hold
information
who puts sand in sandwiches
eh just me or everyone
cos I use a word you know
does it belong
half the terms I spout are half
wrong the rest deserve to be
taken with a pinch of snuff
copped with a sneeze
never tell quite where they’ve been
on & off of random tongues
heaven knows what awful crimes
done in their names
no but keeping shtum ain’t on
either silence gives consent
those who stand & scatch their bums
talk in the end
letting out a cry or sigh
their vocabulary small
doesn’t matter what you say
meaning is all
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| don't touch that chain! |
