This is the second first draft of a poem from today. The 2nd poem written in Poland 2009.
London Bridge
Hey baby give
me yr light
cock chump call
whoa whoa whoooa
rob the rambling wind
fickle yrself sick
with yr puddyslope
plaster my soul's
soul never skips
more's the pity
sip desires
elsewhere balkerings
of bacteria and blooddust
spot on my rain dabbed
minions my damned rats
my buccolic caesars
in the pokka dot shafts
in the flame cycles
with mountains
of chips & slithering
ale we've got
our mouths
on yr fraudulent
chalk a weltering
rook with pensive
swine in their arm-
chairs my nose
is in yr cadaver in yr
spuddertalk against
yon bridge with your
splatwisdom and crumbling
nudes we touch yr turrents
we touch yr androids yr lusty
inhale bonjella on the
gums brunettes tripping
me on the tattered angels
I used to believe in
a little bleary-eyed
snowcone our light
debt is blue the color
of livid yellow goes
the cracked yammer