Selling here a lip serviced stab at persona
it's so easy to be loved that you're hated
but a soft heel at that.
Real ale, Melton Mowbray puritan
should be face down drowning in the
gravy with your bangers.
May the pens push you out
from beneath the bus shelter
and you shiver.
May your blood turn grey,
dry out like the wax desiccated
on the sleeve of the Barbour.
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