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Shanktart – Toasted Sugar Rage Poetry

Shankanalia12On the good ship burning hot… it’s time to smear a little anger on the sweaty hot days of Nottingham’s doubtless brief summer. It’s other people who wind me up (not, I scream at you, the result of my own intolerance, no no…) and their pitiful need for constant support at the exact same time as making out like they actually know what the fuck they’re doing. For pity’s sake – you can’t eat both ends of the candle.

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Shanktart – Toasted Sugar Rage Poetry

Everyone Has A Contribution To Make
If you really think you can do it better
Have a go.
No, go on,
Just have a go
Oh, don’t get it?
Well shut the fuck up
And keep your dumbfuck ideas.

I’m Listening To You
Oh you fucking people.
Shut your fucking mouths.
Your tongue-lip fuckery
Makes me sick;
Jisming nonsense spurts-
Speechly drool drips from your lips.

Work Out
Tearing off your head
Will exercise the muscles
In my sprain-ed wrist.
A little digitation
To tug out your paltry brain-sac
And toss into a ditch.

You Can Be The Uniquest Snowflake
Your name is unspeakable,
Common and crude,
Indistinguishable from the mass
Of writhing morons.
Liberate yourself
Be a Moonfish or Fucknut:
It’d help.

Identify Yourself
Who are you?
Are you the guy who used to be a gal
Who had a name
Bisected by a vowel?
I don’t care
I hope your dead now
I’m assigning you a code.

Spreadsheet Sickness
The codes!
The codes!
My god:
The goddamned codes.
I don’t know if you’re numeric,
Or going septic
But you’re making
Me dyspeptic.

Fractionally Less Useful
Dumb as a plug and twice as ugly;
Half the sense of a halfwit.
Quartered with the babbling
Fools that occupy your mind-
Hiding in a moron miasma.
More of The Same

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