that’s not fair to anyone
except Cornish transvestites who like
who like anything that’s feminine
to scare off the grockles
who live in the old
shed used by the beast
of Bolsover who is a
imposter of beast of bodmin
moor that ate all the
lost and lonely people on
toast followed by a cup
or two of fresh blood
from the blood bank where
the unsuspecting make a deposit
of something not really wanted
like a verucca and piles
of dog turds and cat
powered Fodens that only just
manage out of the yard
on a good day with