Monday, 23 February 2015
Granny Farm For Gatsby
And those rare observational gifts
justify your estate agent's fee:
This is the kitchen,
That must be the bathroom..
Yeah, that dude outside is
your genuine solar-powered garden gnome..
So, we'll throw the solar gnome in gratis..
So made your mind up yet?
you've had my five minutes,
please give me my fee,
thank you goodbye,
Exit stage left me"
There you now are -
So deep inside the mortgagee kill zone;
You've dished up your bank a wage slave-loving home.
Your soul gravy shall drizzle commuter zone decades,
Tumbleweed eyes glaze,
Your plaintive rockstar days sand-blasted away,
dinnerware-damned and betrayed.
A lobster on simmer-to-boil-to-cold,
So here's your keys,
And here's a sweet strychnine flavour of rope,
And how about a glass of champagne to soothe your soul's mini-stroke?
Just think, it'll all be paid for - in forty-four years,
And then it's the granny farm for Gatsby,
What a bargain - Fear.
Wherever you are in the universe, you're here.
You're flipping fish-headed coins beneath the stairway to starfish.
You're a lifer, you're a hamster -
A hamster stunned on the careering karmic wheel dealing 6 billion other lap-dancing tap dancers..
The Great Sardines are blaring above the broiling Tiggers of Spam.
I'm mixing my metaphors as fast as I can;
Ison floored into the sun.
Will Planet X be closer still on its fun run?
So cheer up,
You're one of the lucky ones:
Your solar-powered garden gnome will help you take command,
For this castle of sand is your castle of sand.
So if you're happy and you don't know it,
Clap one hand.