It is sweeter to wander with the wretched and outcasts than to sit crowned with roses at the banquets of the rich
Elisee Reclus

Sunday, September 18, 2011

WALWORTH POEM

CAFF POEM

Three middle class opposite me
I can't understand a word they say

Sounds like: Sizzling Sausages
Bubbling Bath Water
Series of Dog Farts
Chats of One Hundred Mobile Phones In A Submarine, Dying
Lost Radio SIgnals, Coming In, Coming Out, At You
Staccato Clippings of 'Ye', 'Ah', 'Orr', 'Ke', 'Sss'
Sharp Pronouncements
Melody of Bird Song before the bird plague
High Pitches, Squeaking
Ping Pong Table Tennis
Harumph Yes Travel Plans

Chitter Twitter Shit...

Mugs
Smugs
Gums
'I'm Going To A Party'

My omelette and chips ain't so great
nor the tea

I was reading but this sub-audial bombing
means I can't continue

'Eggs Benedict for Breakfast'
Enunciations
Burble
Clippety of Words, Hubble Bubble Trouble (No Toil)
'So, Actually'

'Vodaphone' (high slipped belches)
'Vodaphone' (statement (rapid))
'Vodaphone' (Colonel Mustard is dead in the kitchen with the rope)
'Vodaphone'  (Posh but guttural slips)

Fidgeting, Faffin, Puffin Non-banter
Banterless

I hope they don't stay for the free ice cream, if you spend more than three pounds 


...

2 comments:

Transpontine said...

And was Mad Frankie in the house? Is he still going? Haven't been in that place - it it is that place - for a while.

THE RUINIST said...

What The Ruinist still calls The Two Teas but is now some other name, less good.