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Lines of the signs

Step by step
I wandered down below
the plimsoll line

measuring speed
geometry and flow
with visual aids

Alas now hidden
under a hot dog roll
of hospitality

Headless figure
this mighty body blow
deserves short shift

Being Ernestine

Honesty is the best policy,
even if it isn’t sexy.
A bird in the bush once told me,
Don’t be too greedy.
Don’t be too needy,
and try and keep it nice and sleazy!

Modern Times

Image

Birth control in the water
Babies in the jug
Men in tights
Girls in fights
and bugs under the rug

About love

 

 

I don’t know what it is, but I know what it feels like

Self-love between best friends is my cod philosophy

Do you like the sound of your own voice?

No doubt it’s different when you have a child

Sadly, when I’ve declared love they tend to run a mile

or else go doggy eyed to the point of distraction

 

Heaven on earth for me

is a marvellous moving geometry

 

 

Love, seemingly, can be fatal as a dose of poetry

but I’m no expert

Perhaps you should ask Burt Bacharach

Hell, I dare say, is an exponential decay

of mind’s tiny fires

So be damn sure not to die pumping gas in Gőttingen

 

Slow match

 

It’s a classic tactic
divide and ruse
A, B or C
you choose

All the same
in my shoes
full of holes
the old news

Factor x

Come sing my girl
and make it sound like black
’cause this is gonna be the place we’re at

I woke up this morn
to one such child of heaven
gone to sleep the longest night undriven

Well I doubt you understand how it would feel
if guilt or innocence were wholly real

We could all sit back deciding on the odds
like blind humourless gods

My kind

When you walk in the wind
hold your head, don’t cry
You might stop the pain if you try
 
In the end we are all
in the same old boat
and there ain’t any pie in the sky

Talk on if you like
and get on your bike
cos you know who your friends are

Don’t play dirty games
Don’t call strangers names

And man you’ll be your own
Woman you’ll be your own