What the fuck do eye no
lying in socks
portraying
a rather lay za fair
attitude
2 colour
co
or
din
nation
I mean
wat the fuk
do i no
not a lot
toil
the bells
from
the tower
of
bab
e
lon
diligently erected
within our industrious zone
teased
from twixt heart & soul
but hey wat
do
i
know
that its the a pit toe me
of fat
victorian values
conceived at the
time of asking
nourished
by making for shore
2 make
sure the
beast
dont loose a nail
from its shoe
like eye say
what the
fuck do
i know
do i know of the
100 acre wud
apparently
a nitemare of a plaice
ware
toy stories
r given
credence in
clearwater revivals
where auden
asks us to
watch every or anyday
his
nonchalant pauses
do i know when & why
john crowe ransom dont the name say it all
advises us to ask
batmans
side kick 2 bring on the girls
do i fucking know where t s elliots sweeny todd spreads his knees
while
the aroma of
nightingales
stain wisterias
hung heavy with his lifes new want seas
or
table clothes
absorbing
wat de fuck
every morn noon & night
the drip plonk moments of master kay shone
e jack
queue lay ted
from busy teeth over full with grapes oranges
and
spanish flies
nowt is wat eyes meant to know
can i find
can i fucking find
where yeats plays
as poets do
on the
hiss
stair
rick
cal
verse
of
whim
men
frustrated by their acceptance
of the jesters departure
4 fuks sake
these skirts r surely sickened
by fiddles
looking to their everest
for the next
one off
the hill
may bee
they wont be gay
they say
may bee they'll be
a
long legged
serving bod
with an instru
ment whose tragedy wat the fek
whose
halfway house is
just that
whose attachments to a sound is
ancient
melodious
embodied with the
aband
don
ment
of an
advancing
avalanche
4 fuks sake
popping its cherry at the perfect score
along
lanes &
alleys all
lite up
4 the fucking arrival
of
the
next
fucking
caravan
wud aint u know
wad der u no
what the fuck do we know
bowt as much
as our
bloodied
bodies
want
to show
thats what i fucking know
how bowt U
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