D E G
Its thirty foot
long and it stinks of piss, sores and scabs all over it
Its rude, its wrinkled, its veins are blue,
Its the Thursday morning pension queue
out for a drive, you're stuck behind a Lada for miles
They drool, they dribble, they cough, they wheeze,
They make you queue for hours at Sainsbury's
Fuck off down
the post office, if you're handicapped
Village idiot competition for mutants, geeks and spacks
doddering, slobbering, stammering, staggering fools.
Dunces, dullards, demented dimwits, imbeciles, buffoons.
Shuffling halfwits interbred, simpletons with mis-shaped heads,
rotting fossils, decomposing,
Ninnies with no teeth.
Wronglybuilts, grinning, gurning, incontinents and freaks.
©1993 The Macc
Old persons’ cars, powered by a rubber bands, only appear when you’re
in a hurry.
They're driven by people who wear hats in the car, and eat picnics
in lay-bys of busy dual carriageways.
A supermarket on Cumberland St.
It has an uneven,
muddy carpark built on a steep gradient- (hence a preponderance
Jeeps, Range Rovers,
and other 4 -wheel drive vehicles parked therein).