as i said to her
also able to write without forcing the first idea of what she's on about
up some so called reader's nosey snout
" only when we have lived a full on death
and accepted it in all it's dullness to that very final breath
can we actually start to live.."
i thought rather good for a pathetic little tramp, only love left to give
(the rest havin' stolen every last retained and beloved children's toy
and tried to nick even simplest daily joy
with their selfharmin' mixed up indignity
as to employ a MAN to fix your messed up roost
'man management' means he must find a way into they detritus
and bring peace and harmony
method in his madness, go make that promised fuckin toast
leave me alone i shall fix your messed up nest
and shut up, management experts know its time to be merely pious)
yes, die... a many deaths
every dullest afternoon
But each and every dawn... rise afresh
(ohh god what did you do to me Missey Doone)
god i forgot why i opened up again
the rule of now is that when you do
it vanishes.. disappears... so get soe actual poetry into the ears
dished out like that perfect stew..
ohh yes.... Little Miss Sadeyed.....
of "them" highlands, too
"well bully for it, assumption
and unknowabale mental liquid gumption
scrubbin out all great info on how to be 'human'
such as Kramp red oxide primer for the rust
and the greatest writer of all
the last century
... even i too effete 'n fay:
leave this socialist self pityin' crap for another day
But he never even knew.... cos ee died to quick
oops gettin carried away, and too much 'space'
between that one so Missussed word 'human'
And god what must she have felt
at her daddy's corpse and its success
What on earth must have been daily in the actual heart
of the one loyalest daughter ever extant, Kathleen Noonan
