Advertisement Idea For Rosetta Stone

Late at night
About half past dark
Cows meow
And horses bark.

Dogs copy frogs
Pigs say "baa"
Sheep make the sound of a passing car.

Mice roar
Chipmunks cheep
Clams copy vans (a bit like the sheep).

Hummingbirds whistle - I know, it's crazy
Ducks still quack
But they're just fucking lazy.

You can learn too
Wherever you are
Strolling in the park
Or having sex in a car
Rearranging your nads, reading ads on the tube
Or trussed up in a dungeon while your friend applies lube.

And I know it's not as easy as making a sandwich

But it's a skill, and a thrill

Learn a foreign language.

Fly Garden Disco

Fly, why
Do you buzz in the sky
With your mates, in square shapes
Like you're trapped in crates
Invisible to the naked eye
Is it the WiFi, why fly, why?
The way you dance, take a chance, delight me
But I'll make a stance:

Don't you fucking bite me

From high, up by
The conservatory roof
You don't want my blood
It's 40% proof;
I've been drinking wine, well it's been a long day
Don't make me preach
Or I'll reach for the fly spray
Soon
There's moon
And they drifted away
Well that's what flies do at the end of the day
In stranger shapes
On different axes
And some with their mum
In butterfly taxis.

Goodbye fly
You're pretty fly
For a fly.

Pond

Pond must ring up cloud
To ask for more pond
So he can be sea.

Warning: Heart Thieves Operate In This Area

Nancy, oh Nancy
It's you that I fancy
You make my bones shake
And I feel all antsy
From the first sight I might have got 
A frying pan in the face
A second Big Bang
Stopping time and space 
An English rose with a pretty nose
My pupils dilated
I feel like cheese feels
When it's just been grated
Like a Messerschmidt's bullets hit me
Running up my spine

I'm so messed up I can't even think of the next line
If love were an illness 
I've a really bad case
It's like my heart left my chest
And went and punched me in the face
And when I catch a quick flick of your slick brown hair
It's like I'm beating myself repeatedly 
With the leg of my chair
I quiver like a river
In Gosport, Hants
But the thing I think most about
Is Nancy's pants
Yeah ok I realise that bit's a bit naughty
(Like I know you're 24 and I'm over 40)
But whatever, it's just a number and it's plain to see
Like a bank robber
You really did a number on me.

Moth

Moth
You need to get off
My cloth
And my lightbulb, soon
Because I’m not the moon
And you should’ve been advised
When you got here too soon
That the sky’s
Big, like a sponsord-ised gig
And you’ve been waiting in the wings
To flap your dainty little things
Dry
But don’t cry
As you chew through my vest
ed interests
Coz I
Am as vain as the next guy
On foot rests
Who prefers legs to breasts
And thigh.

I hear your sigh
And just wonder why it’s human nature to objectify
I
Have always preferred the butterfly
And that’s a dry little metaphor
For
Life.
Still at least we can sigh
And then go under the knife
And have the lips of a clown without being pinned down.

In the end nobody loses
We just choose the bruises
Be it the dominant forces resources
Or the freedom fighter’s Kalashnicov…
I don’t care,
I just stare
And hate your constant buzzing

Moth.

A Poem I Can't Remember The Title Of‏

I’d like to broach a subject that my friends find unbearable
It’s my memory…
And it’s fucking terrible. 

Now, it’s nothing to do with laziness or a lack of respect
I listen to all you say, I just
Don’t always recollect. 

It’s a stillness, an illness, like my mind’s been blinded
Yeah I’ll meet you down the pub, I just need to be reminded.

It’s useless, toothless, a mental brick wall
I even forgot the plot of Total Recall. 

Like a manual car without a clutch
Or a Braille sign that says “Do Not Touch”
It’s pointless,
It’s a breeze on the far side of Venus
It’s small and it’s shrivelled,
Like a cold man's penis.
Like an itch on a knee at the London Palladium
My memory’s like a fart in a football stadium.

It’s insignificant, largely irrelevant 
It won't engender jealousy in a clichéd elephant.

I’m not enjoying this toying, it’s annoying as hell
Apparently I wrote this line before, but it doesn’t ring a bell.

My memory is cold, like the old in December 
I would tell you more, but I just can't...um...oh…what’s the word?

Kardashian Kar Krash

Why is your passion

On ration

Like it’s gone out of fashion?

You’ve perfected the trick of making me sick

Like I’m watching the Kardashians

Who think we’re enlightened when they whiten their teeth

Or get new tints

The vacuous bints

And that twatish bloke with the jumper round his neck. 

I’m no fighter

But I’d love to pull it tighter

Life would be better to see you swing

From the ceiling

Attached to an Arran sweater.

But I’m better than this

And I don’t know if you got the gist

It’s just I’d love your expensive watch

To list

Like a ship

And slip

To the floor

From your limp, dead wrist.

I’m in my prime

But I could turn to crime

Do time

And yeah it might seem that I’m

Being rash

But just a cheeky little car crash

Would do the job.

I know this bloke, Bob

The Everest of man-mountains

Who could sort it in such a manner

Like Diana

But with less memorial fountains.

And I know wishing death on someone is a little far

But I’d supply the car

If that’s what it takes

It just wouldn’t have brakes.

But I digress

I went off road

Like I hope their fucking car does

NO!

I’m joking

I’m just poking fun, I’m provoking

I’m karaoke-ing with a lie that I can’t deny:

I don’t really want the Kardashians to die.

I want them tortured

To within an inch of their celebrity life

Like I’d get one red ant

And his ant wife

To eat them alive

Starting at opposite ends

Until they arrive

Together

And all that survives

Is their eyes

So they can watch their demise

In HD, like me

And their shitty TV show

I so

Despise.

Wise

Men would say turn over

But I don’t control the TV in our house

I haven’t got the nous

I’m timid as a mouse

I haven’t even got a spouse

Just my girls

Steph and Emma

It’s not much of a dilemma

And I don’t moan when you don’t replace the loo roll

Or leave the key in the front door

But that Kardashian programme’s poor

And QI’s on the other side

And even silence is better for the mind

And I’m sorry for speaking while you’re watching

But please, please, please

Whatever you do

Don’t rewind.