LAMENT OF THE YOUNG CONSERVATIVE INDIE FICTION SCENE
7.20am; interrupting my reverie
In which unattainable Aussie girls in kneeboots
Frolicked, cavorted, CARPET BURNED
This creature assails my senses
Dabs his hair with Flora, then begins to read
"Our glorious leader, Cameron, and the rise of the June Brides....
Windmills in Ladbroke Grove by 2012....
Asbestos ASBO, heal thyself, pick up thy bike and walk!
For Goodbye Mr McKenzie, I swap a tree for flaming torch...."
Oh, zip it and get a haircut, you gobshite!
Ah, as if life wasn't hard enough
Lack of sleep and pre-packaged carcinogens
Silty shit in tuna cans
Christ knows what we're drinking in water now
But to suffer your indulgent stories
Your cockerel crows, your endless tripe
About Kingmaker and getting kids back to work
Is the very sound of burbling mermaids
Tit-harpooned by wifebasher crew; FOUR MINUTES OF PRE-DEATH NAUSEA