Archives :: John Kidd
Anti-Life
Appeared in the 1999-2004 issue.
In South Street, Anti-life was positioned.
Now sweet as sick, memories come to mind.
Like smells from the drains as thick as gravy.
And when Mama broke, her face went wavy.
Hey ho, my Anti-life, growing up
With dripping on toast, strangled pup,
Dog Wilson I called him, they strung him fine,
Round and round on the clothes line.
Night-cart man Briggs shagged our neighbor,
Got her bloomers off, sand paper,
Gravel rash, abrasive fleshing.
Us kids watched through the fencing.
Eyes see inwards, blistered and yellow.
Hello, you world, I'm just the fellow.
Anti-life practitioner, thumb on my bone.
Brigitte Bardot, there's a boy's own.
This anti- development was taking place
On South Street, there we resided, that was the case.
Ride on Anti-life! You kids
Have no idea, we did the deeds.
Back then we were fine, asked for no more.
Christ! Computer games, what a bore!
Ah my childhood, memories linger,
Daddy went away with a fat singer,
Country style, yodeled through her nose,
Exotic attraction, painted toes.
I love a drink, cask wine will do.
Live near the hospital, quite a nice view,
Black smoke from the chimney, someone carked?
Anti-life, Anti-life, is what the dogs barked.
When I see a falling star like I just saw,
It's magic like crackers or being picked for the war.
They bull-dozed South Street, Christ almighty!
One Guy Fawkes night, Sally Sangs lifted her nightie.
Now I'm getting old, notice it at night.
Anti-life, Anti-life, best when I'm tight.
I heard on the radio, some Einstein turd
Said Anti-life couldn't have just occurred
... I don't know.
To be honest, I don't know where I'm at.
The wife left me. Did I mention that?
View bio information and additional poems published in Half Drunk Muse on the author's main archive page.
Copyright 1999-2009 John Kidd.