Sta Morendo

Those who die young

Die with much fanfare, and whaling, a gnashing of teeth

Those who die at a grand old age,

Die with a whimper and a silent exhale of breath.

21st Century Life

Do you ever wonder what went wrong with life,

when the only, “good morning” you ever get

is from your Apple watch?

That wasn’t quite what I was promised from birth, you can’t help but think.

Grow up, meet your soul mate, have a family.

Buy a house. Get a dog. Get a second car. Perhaps a beach shack.

Grow old together.

So many people are alone in the world, how did I end up as one of them, goes through your mind?

But still, I have Apple watches in an assortment of colours.

Look, this one matches my eyes.

It’s just a shame I have never had someone to tell me that.

Can an Apple watch tell me I am beautiful?

Pat me on the back?

Fly Me To The Moon

We’re flying to the moon,

And we’re celebrating the fact,

New giant step, and all that,

As the earth is practically in ruins,

Or heading there fast.

‘They’ haven’t said as much,

But I suspect going to the moon,

Is a good, financial opportunity,

And I wonder if they want to do to it,

What they have done down here.

So, we could end up with two

Balls of garbage,

Seemingly without a care,

That no one can go and live on Mars,

any time soon.

Christianity

My mother told me that Christianity was 

love thy neighbour, love one another.

That’s it. That’s what it is. That’s what it is about.

It isn’t anything else. It is that simple.

That was what my mother taught me.

And we go to church at Xmas and Easter,

to be together and to sing songs.

Because that’s what we do.

There is a certain joy in being together,

and doing that.

Loving thy neighbour.

Miserable Pig. Miserable Bitch

I am the creature that the dual messengers of Satan created. Arthur Batson, and Olive Joan Gregson.

Arthur Batson was a pig, 

“Why are you sitting next to Josh Grant, Gareth, I thought you had better taste.”

I’ve never met a boy so bedevilled with behavioural problems, as Josh Grant.

Arthur Batson was a pig. 

in his nylon suits and his coiffured hair, all that was missing was the mauve rinse. Were there cravats?

Every day in grade six there was a battle of wits, you know which is fine, but I was a little boy.

Arthur Batson was a pig.

He lived at Maud Street Balwyn. Maud Batson more likely. Did you fancy me as a 10 year old, Maud Batson? Was that the problem?

Olive Joan Gregson was a first class bitch.

“I worry about you turtle, so slow,” she’d say. “I don’t know what on earth you could ever do, you are just not good at anything, are you turtle.”

Chances are she was borderline insane.

I’ve never been good at anything. There you go. I am the person you created. Are you pleased with yourselves, Maud Batson, and Olive the Witch?

Chances are that Olive Joan Gregson was borderline personality disorder.

I'm standing in a huge, empty theatre and I am yelling that out from the stage. 

"Are you pleased with yourselves? With what you created? Well, are you? Bitch and pig?"

The bitch lived until she was 99, that is usually the death knell for cunts like her. 

Olive Joan Gregson was a first class bitch.

“The Pig was a little younger. Some say he died from AIDS. But I have neither had that denied, or confirmed.”

I am not completely sure that I ever recovered from the dual messengers of Satan. Arthur Maud Batson, and Olive Joan Gregson

Tell Me Why?

I know I have been loved by many people

thought of as special, as the best, even,

gorgeous, smart, lovely people,

I was very lucky and loved,

but, many of those people are now dead,

so what the fuck does all of that mean now?

Tell me that?