Smog
We held hands in the polluted gloom
looks of love over our respirators
there's a sun out there
somewhere
the sun and the stars
know the way
if we can see them through
sheets of brown and gray
Smog, smog, beautiful smog
choke and belching sets you retching
gasping and rasping like The Covid Kid
night time afters
huffing up white cocaine
day time smog
above the fruited plain
I can't see you because of smog
all I see of you are signs
in the form of gray outlines
we can't film today because of smog
the mayor hung himself because of smog
dirty air has you crying
this grimy cloud has no silver lining
Carrot In The Donkey's Eye
Well the wheels keep turning
engines never quit burning
stacks pumping steam
belching out toxic plumes of smoke
when the week's all done
what's left of your dreams
why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye
Where are my pennies from heaven
you can't sock it
how do you coin it
how do you get it
with hole's burning right through your pocket
why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye
If you want to feel like a common workhorse
come one come all
and join the exhausted workforce
but the devil has your back
cause you're whoring out for cash
why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye
Sing for your supper
and you pay the piper
all the well meaning creditors
all the smiling predators will make you a debtor
for the rest of your life
why ask why
it's the carrot in the donkey's eye
Slumgullion
Four witches stirring up
a boiling cauldron
what's that smell
it stinks like hell
tastes like a bowl of old bouillabaisse and rotting onions
could only be slumgullion
Juliet lies dead
and all the birds have fled
the fish lay upside down
love's labour lost all around
spare the dagger childe it's all in fun
just eat the slumgullion
Willie the Shake
made a terrible mistake
as you like it well I don't
Portia and Banquo didn't
eat it for pleasure
they tried to shoot it measure for measure
just say no dear Hamnet son
pray don't try the slumgullion
Well the nights of midsummer
drive jaded pagans to plunder
Titania my Titania
surrendered to Oberon
just for a sip of his enchanted
slumgullion
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are still dead
but they’re luckier than Yorick
alas poor one just another shrunken head
Ophelia and Cordelia
had as much as they could stand
as Othello mainlined slumgullion
into the veins of his hands
(what a turn up for the books)
All poems Copyright 2025, Andy Seven Ltd.
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