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My internet life has begun

With a fishful of stars

By the tankful.

It is not because I have

no endeavour, it is because

Sweet Yassy is there I am thankful.

First India reads and it is cool

To think they are waiting

For me to sleep

For their watchful eye

Over me to slumber

And forever keep

In the arms of Sati

And use of the drum

To tattoo on my arm

I am a poet and have no

Need for firearm

Nor bomb to explode

With vigour and vim

Over pages of alter ego.

It takes but a minute to

Fill and use the constellation

Of virgo.

BCDFM

COPYRIGHT Bruce E Saunders com Bruce P Saunders com Bruce CDF More 2020

I put it in your letterbox

Hoping for a bang

Waited for a moment

And thought “what the hang?!”

Tried you in the jury

You told me not to tell

The sentence inconsekwential

If only I could spell

My name a little better

I’d sign your card get well

But if things continue this way

There won’t be any belles

At the ball tonight

And throw me to the wind

There’s too much anaesthesia

I cannot find the spin

Docter to hold me close

I jump into the riot act

And read it’s and overdose

Of clap you have

The cheering will not stop

I turn to the old doctor

Who’s wobbling like a top

I say hey you fix up me good old dear

He says nothing left to worry

She only needs a beer.

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS com BRUCE P SAUNDERS com BRUCE CDF MORE 2020

It was my idea, now you see

It is not me it is my dream

To wake in the morning with love in my eye

Next to you in the soft morning.

Tough on you I want to be

To make you mine. I long to see

The lust in you come forth and sigh.

I wonder if you will ever buy

Me a beer and trough with me,

Soften the hunger that whirls my tree

That opens the door to mad and mine

True it stops with opening see?

It traps my heart and closes doors

I see you there and I wonder more,

What do you want? I cannot see.

Break me down, I want to be

The right of my word

The sleight of my bird

The wake of me

The host of you

C’mon Babe! May you see

You cannot come unless you be

A girl of mine that only knows

The size of my grasp the hold of nose

As I plunge my finger forever in your wool

Do not splutter – I’m Daddy-cool!

BCDFM

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS com BRUCE P SAUNDERS com BRUCE CDF MORE 2020

It took a wipe of the nose

to block your face

Like a hammer it blew

My skin to awake

The tie in the ground and

The work up above

You don’t know the way

But you do understand

The right of the worn

And the stop if the go

in the real and the ray

Of the board in the som

And that is the way

For the sun to begin

To make with the right

And the left of the some

and the work of the mill

is not here in the gris

Of wem and raoul and the ru com like swearing

In the right of the wore in the rule

Of the then and ru as it stands

In the right of the run

in the root of the idea

Of it all and so it goes to the end of all time

And it is so to speak the end of all time

against the root of time

and works for all evil

The time of the Somme

Is here again

As we shed 96 tears

For the all, the unwed

The mur in the tablet

And the rule self unsted

The light of the Tyne

is not yet unwear

We rollick in time

For the faces so Dear

lost to the trench

Though the blow is ungo

I wonder if each

could tell where to go

In the light of the peril

We hold the line tort

And jostle for life

With smoked bathing glow

Asunder the foot they

Do not unsew

The light of the time

is not here where we so

our ravaged hands of shovel

And spade

Do open our glory

To manjack’s parade

if fiefdom and wealth to

Whom we create, the novel

Extinction of what we do

Say.

BCDFM

There is no time like the present

No time to call me the better man

I love you all but still you sin

You smoke like Dirk but hold your fin

Like an animal

You do not win

In absence of glory you do not tell

The winner is evil the sky the begin

Of pleasure inperilled

The arc of bin laden

Does not finish here

But there where you win

The aimless start of war can be

The anywhere else for you do not begin

The end does start to make it sin

You do not know where I cannot simply

Open your eyes to the title track

Of the lp

I love to play

10 to 1

Is not the time

It opens doors

Where love begins

I di not know where you

Cannot sin

Begin the where

When no one sins

Where your difference on the brow

And hold your crooked man

On the sow

Soo-ee, soo-ee

I love you more

Than pigs do in your final hour

Do not know me when

You power

I know you not

And love you nire.

Pyre is work I do not pleasance

Take the bow

The corner presence

Is open now

I cannot hold

You again.

Bcdfn.

Copyright Bruce E Saunders 2020

The type of thing

We call the heir

Apparent to the throne

Of Red Sinatra

Is not the one we call

The lone

But the blow of time

A-coming.

It does not matter how they lose

Or where they come a-chanting

But if they know the un-white seat

There are no blows a-chanting!

This is not why they do not know

They cannot see the runner

They do not know and cannot see

The writing on the reader

Side of pale moon walking like

Nymphomaniac on the green of yellow pulses

Like you and me here

On the red side of mooney and mere where

They do not know it

But they see why in the moon

And atmosphere of red and blue

Where no one doth sleep

But they do know it is not right

To do it here in the end of it too

Where it does not know it but it does

Sum it in the moonshade of left and right again.

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2020

The time is not about the word of the young

but the say of the tom and cat who use the word

to make all the work of the press

look like it is about to be used

as toilet paper

and not the start but the finish

is the beginning of time and the work of

man is about the right

of all to see that there is no way

of being in the work of me and

not the work of my words and you.

It is not about the way I feel

it is about the work of my young

ensemble of friends

who use it to get

the work of none

into the work

of plenty.

You see it in her eyes

but you don’t see it in her hands

for they are working and that

is what they say

it is not going to be easy

to start the writing on the wall again

when they do not know

what it is to be political

in class here where they call

it number one for some and none

for you and me.

B