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This is a MASSIVE ordnance
of tremendous arrogance
and lyrical indulgence

This poem is a BLAST! of hubris
of gargantuan proportions
across a vast chasm of forgotten memory
of crimes past

This is a BATTERY of poetry!...
... a cluster of internal rhymes
that splatter and clutter
bespatter and utter
profanities over obscenities
a bonfire of vanities
at the expense of sanity
and a few dozen insignificant militants

This is the MOTHER
of all mission statements

This MOTHER will penetrate
pursue you
into the bowels of the cultural desert
Its vowels will FUCK YOU UP!
track you down
trawl through the cracks
in the underground
to ground you down
to the sound of its own ECHO ECHO ECHO 

a hole through the middle of hell
for no good reason
other than to show off
her literary hardware to the world

This mother cares
whether you live or die
or whether you live a lie
This mother nurtures an instinct to help

This is no mean mutha'
This mother wil…

Mrs Podowlski's Mercurial Afternoon Out in the Face of the Prevailing Tide of Naturalism, Austerity and Other Clichés in the War Against the Zombie Capitalist Sociopaths.

- I want to start to walc. I want to start to walc.

- You want to what?

- I want to start to walc.

- Walk! You want to start to walk?

- Yes. I want to start to walc.

- You can't walk Mrs Podowlski. You're in a wheelchair.

- I want to start to walc.

- I know, but you can't. That's why I'm here. To push.

- I want to start to walc.

- I'd love for you to walk Mrs P. But my name's Joan not Jesus.

- Jesus is coming!

- That's right. Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays. It's me. Tuesdays, Thursdays,'s Jesus. We both get Sundays off. Thank God.

- I want to start to walc. Jesus is coming!

- Yes. He'll be here tomorrow, pushing you around the park and doing the cleaning. Like me today.

- I want to start to walc. Jesus is coming!

- His English is worse than what yours is.

- Jesus is coming!

- Mind you, leaves the house spotless in ten minutes flat. Whoosh! Miracle how he does it.

- I want to start to walc. Jesus is coming!

- Yes, Mrs P. Tomorrow. The tall blok…


Chen Ling reads better on the lavatory. She prefers enclosed space. It keeps out distractions and customers, not to mention the pervasive odour of oyster sauce and fried food, traded in for the chemical tang of Blue Loo. Not many customers use the toilet, at least not during the day. The WC is used for storage mainly: wholesale-sized cooking oil and boxes of uncooked prawn crackers.

"Pah!" tuts Chen Ling internally, "Another hackneyed tale about a young Chinese woman corseted by parental tyranny, toil and chop suey."

She swings her legs across to the right so as to place the rejected novel under the bottom of the pile of six she has loaned from the public library. The new top novel is in Spanish, one of six languages (Mandarin, Cantonese, Castilian, Catalan, Gallician and English) that she speaks fluently. The number six is auspicious.

Resting Isabel Allende's sixth novel Paula (sixth edition) on her lap, she takes six sheets of toilet paper in an attempt to …


My step mother says that she saw Fang Shi in the Cash & Carry today, but I do not believe her. Tony says to ignore her. She only wants to hurt me. She only wants to get me back for the lipstick.

Six days a week. Three in the afternoon till midnight. One night off. One night to socialise with my friends from Uni. One night of lipstick. And this is too much for Mrs Mee. She never calls me Mee Mee. Me me me, she always says. She says I only think of me. I must think of the family. The business. My studies. Saving money. Not lipstick and boys. Not boys who have no interest in making money, starting a family, going into business. Boys who are young and foolish and only want lipstick are not good.

Tony went to Uni to study business management. Tony came back to work at Cho Mee. He said he never would. He said it was only for the time being. That was four and a half years ago. I will not come back to Cho Mee. I will not work here until I die. I will die first.

Yu Tai Mee, my fathe…


When ya say, 
ya husband 'n' stepbrother bin sequestrated 
by aliens, 
Betty Lee, 
what exactly d'ya mean to say?

I mean to say 
that my Bobby Joe bin hijacked 
by them there Mexicans 
's exactly like the President said they would.

OK, Betty Lee, 
I'm gonna go get me the paperwork.

Officer Kinobe was in for a long night.


These are the FAKE NEWS! Headlines


It’s the end of history. Face facts, we won.

They pull down the wall. We build another one. 

And you’re paying!

You’re listening to false news 24-7


Roger Glover, a suspected sex offender from Leeds, 

has denied the charge.

George Galloway, 

children’s entertainer and serial monogamist,

has fled to the country, 

following a disastrous attempt at a military moustache.

This is the false news. And now SPORTS!

The Loch Ness Monster has been sighted in Penge. 

Tiger Woods again for no apparent reason. 

Objectivity and integrity have refused to comment.

Meanwhile, David Beckham, the boxer shorts model

And eau de cologne entrepreneur, has been annointed

by the masses for his services to pants.

At the top of the hour. Every half hour! 

These are FAKE NEWS! Headlines

June Brown, the actress who plays Danny Dyer

in the long-running television melodrama, Eastenders,

Has been found alive and well on …