So you want poems ?

		The Big Issue is a magazine produced in the UK that is sold by members of the homeless community whereby they purchase the magazine at cost price from its producers and keep the markup profit thus making a living, becoming self-sufficient and breaking out of the no job = no money, no money = no home, no home = no job vicious circle. Whilst the Big Issue is to be applauded in many ways one notably notorious aspect of its existence is its Poetry Section. Inspired by perhaps the worst poem that ever appeared on printed paper, Hard, here's the Happy Hippy's contribution for poems worthy of a Big Issue Literary Oscar. 'Ard - Take Two Life's a drag When you've got no fags An' you've gone an' spilt yer bitter Life's no fun When you've got the runs An' can't get in the s--tter Me an' Sal That's me Gal Are routin' through the litter She say's she's 'ard; More like a tub of lard So I went an' f--kin' 'it 'er. 'Ard - Take Three I've split with Sal Got another pal Been duffing up me father He's me dad But he's bleedin' sad Even drives a f--kin' Lada He's got no mates In a right two an' eight Says he wants to go to Plasa * I said, stupid thought Where the f--k's Earls Court ? An' 'it 'im even 'arder. * Plasa = Professional Light And Sound Association 'Ard - Take Group Four I've killed me Ma I've f--ked me Pa Been nicked by DC Carver An' in a week Up before a beak I'll be in a bleedin' lather They've done their tests I've screwed the best They've blamed it on me father If they lock me up I won't give a f--k It'll make me bleedin' 'arder. 'Ard - Again If you want a f--k You're out of luck You'd better make me 'arder. Clever I'm ESN I'm ESN That makes me A nurse. Have A Shag Shag Shag Shag Shag Not ready rub But shag. Anti At Center Parcs It's a f--kin' larf Breaking in to chalets Spent all the dosh On a rogan josh An' been sick Up someone's alley. Steve My mates all call me Ste' It's plain for all to see I'm stupid. Vegeburger Dreamland If Rod ran an abatoir I'd be fine If Rod ran an abatoir I'd drink wine If Rod ran an abatoir I'd be free If Rod ran an abatoir I'd drink tea If Rod ran an abatoir you'd all see What a f--kin' mess this place would be If Rod ran an abatoir I'd try to be A good friend And invite him round for tea Safer that way. A Poem Poetry is for the masses S--t words Streaming From unwashed asses. Another Poem If words could be Just like the sea Flowing over paper Some would see How it all could be Sooner Maybe later. Rimes It's difficult to make words ryhme let's take the word called purple It's just the sort of word Which makes one want to hurdle And then they throw up orange Not physically I hope So with trawler sweet clasped in hand I chew upon a lozenge. A Neo-Roman Classical Poem If all poems were written in italics Would it make them Much more phallic ? And if such poems were writ in bold Would any be worth Their weight in gold ? And if such poems were penned Italic bold Would you burn down shops From which they sold ?
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First published sometime before Friday the 10th of September, 1999 Last upload was on Wednesday the 7th of January, 2004 at 17:44:53