fox

i saw a fox
our eyes locked
he looked
he isn’t on facebook
when something tweets
he thinks it might be something to eat

he lives in a den
a real den
not a shit den that kids make that blows away
a real den
his only friends are his kin
and his vixen
who he loves
whatever she does
she does much

when he gets back
with a rotten rat
their noses touch
and they have lunch
and she feeds her kits
and they squeak

humans used to be like this
but now they use formula
even though it’s not recommended
by anyone
because it’s not natural
they have to go to work

 

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it’s all over

it’s all over social media
it’s a cure I must feedyah.
it’s gone viral,
like a Fibonacci spiral
infecting every sense.
it penetrates the dense, the stupid.
we retweet and make it lucid

remember care bears?
that was caring.
you’re just clicking.
that’s not sharing.
the thing in your hand’s ensnaring
you, you fool

if someone breaks their phone,
they are no longer alone
people gather hear them moan
i broke my phone, my phone is broke
it’s wet, it’s broke.
is this some kind of joke?
you broke your phone?
sit down, I will help you fix your phone
and when I’m done leave you alone
listen carefully to me,
drink some tea,
what I say you won’t like
it’s not nice
put your phone in some rice
you are now without device
and your life is on ice
my phone is broke.
I know, iphone.

hate hate hate

the trouble is,
Muslims doubling,
Muslims troubling your beliefs.

Look,
over,
your shoulder.
they’re taking over.
they took your jobs,
their law is older,
they stone their lovers in the street

this is terror you can’t measure
this is an Islamic state
(so called mates)
and we can stop hate with hate
we can start hate with hate
marvel like we didn’t create
then finally stop all hate with hate

regurgitate the curry ate
The girl you kissed, the Pharmacist.
Well we all make mistakes.
It’s not too late.
hate hate hate.
was there something that we missed?

Let’s make Britain great again.
no shame in the flag
fuck off mate
retaliate
you sound like my dad

 

bus arrives microseconds

bus arrives microseconds
no more guessing, get to lessons.
It’s our bus
in bus we trust.

stare air diesel
creeping ipod weasels
pick up propaganda
sit in silence
read violence
oil reliance
unnecessary science
bus jerks
I’ll talk about this at work
little boys that used to stare at little girls skirts
delve into 3D worlds through screens
outside is grey post punk post industrial concrete
queues of tin machines
switch off data
pick up paper

game loading, brain exploding,
experience encoding.