round every corner's a food bank
but what about people like me?
my table creaks with provisions,
I'm never short of salmon for tea
its a love bank my heart needs
somewhere to nourish my soul,
fill my breast with fondant fancies
its been far too long on the dole
I dream of hot charitable staff
eager women dressed to kill,
piling my basket with promise
Saturday 5th December 2020 10:46 am
Chefing is not what it used to be
His boss called him in and explained.
'We're now on tier 3 says the edict,
and boozers like this have to close.'
'No boss, we're exempt,
like the 'Spoons have been told.
We sell grub and that's kosher
just the ale house is doomed.'
'It won't work like that lad,
the punters are scared.
And I can't serv...
Sunday 8th November 2020 6:47 pm
Drugs. Addiction –
back by popular demand.
A way to end the boredom,
spoil another day.
living second hand.
Last two quid for the ‘leccy' box
in a load of rusty change.
frustrated as one can.
Can’t entertain all the time
and have constructive ideas.
all letters in the sand.
Want to know the futu...
Monday 18th January 2016 4:02 pm
More empty promises from the likes of you agency liars.
Carve up the job market with a promise of work.
Little do we know how you have wrecked this industry.
And it’s all monkey work, I’ve seen a monkey do a better
Job than you! Move brown boxes from A to B in a futile
Effort for a bit of pocket money, no hard cash here.
Empty promises and sugar-coate...
Monday 12th September 2011 2:55 pm
Once-upon-a-time, a barman worshipped the Sun.
Worked nights so didn’t see much of it
but in his head he’d got stories of
the Fire God supreme,
vanquishing monsters who'd eat out your dreams.
He called the Sun ‘Hero’,
believed it had six pairs of arms,
giant wings of flame
and the handsomest nose in the galaxy.
Made moons blush
Friday 17th December 2010 1:38 pm