- Presents
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Joe Bunn
......was born when he was just a baby. He is indifferent to
marmite.
Joe Bunn can refer to myself in first and third person, but not
second. Or can you? Sometimes he eats his dinner slightly later
than his dad makes it, it's his own small rebellion. |
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Single Edged Sword So there's one man, and he's collecting money, for some run-down, poor, starving hungry country and he's rattling his collection bucket, it's nothing, fuck it, chuck it in, and the spare change thrown away in there, is spare, we've got money to spare, WE NEED CHANGE it rattles like the bars on a ribcage beans in an empty belly, like the distended, who've not seen themselves on telly, the ones with the brand new reebok trainers, dressed in our wardrobe remainders but then they're ten sizes too thin, so that's when then we send in the tins deer hooves, pigs trotters, cabbage in gelatine but nothing to open them with, don't get me right, it's good that you give but its like sending them water in a sieve. And this man on the street, the charity bucket chap he's shaking out a beat like he's giving something back and he roars 'help the poor, put an end to it all more against war, we need less flaws, help ethiopia, help africa, stop the rape in countries far, down with hunger, down with hate, aid us with our fight with aids, long standing problems need to sit down stop those unchosen few from wearing their crowns, melt them down, and share the wealth and then we'll all drink water to our good health.' But across the road from our chugger at large another donations bard, with a clipboard, and he's got some news: 'haven't you heard? one kid's gone missing, we've all gone mad it's in the front pages of the national rags slathered all between the sections of blood red tops like an emptied bottle of tomato sauce, looks like the real thing but its not and now he's got the latest scoop, this time the truth, it's GM fruits they're playing god by making these crops, taking something little and making it lots that is something we need to stop, cos over here we've got enough, so stick some money in the slot We're all fat enough anyway don't you think? This paedo's gone free, should be in the clink, and this is why we need your chinks that reminds me, jacko died as well, he touched me, he touched my soul and we need to raise money so he won't go to hell he needs to be buried away from everyone no need to think about everyone else's son, everyone else's daughter, everyone else's family, they weren't famous like Jade and Mikey, so no need to worry. Bankroll up, Bankroll up, ignore the third world, we're the first for a reason charity begins at home, and that's why we're not collecting for the homeless they've done it to themselves, and regardless, they'll just spend it on drink and drugs, whereas we'll spend it on wine, and coffee mugs Empty your pockets, we need your dough, to send up a rocket filled up with the ghosts of tragedies in foreign lands who cares about people we can't understand so spend a penny on the world, as it divorces you from your money, for these unworthy causes.' And the first man looks at the second and says, 'I'll put a pound in yours if you put one in mine' and the second man stares like he's committed some crime, and says, 'no, if it's not in the papers, it don't need any funds, that's the way it works, if the story runs for weeks and weeks we won't forget to remember, if it's not in the papers, then it's over, forever.' And the first man closes his eyes and grins walks over to where the second's standing and cracks him in the head, with a sickening sound and says 'well, i've still given you a pound.' |
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Skinny Jeans Don't Mean a Thing 'I'm so kooky, and i'm so great,' Shut up, i won't salivate, over chicks who drink their vodka straight and I'm fed up all all these image based bitches with faces so sullen they'll break if it twitches, bits of plucked eyebrow, still stuck in a sneer, and here, a curled lip, too cool for school just means you're thick, or fick, not fit, cos you're not real, guess what? i wanna see you squeal as i rip off that well planned, 'thrown together' look outfit, thin your fat lip from that pouting trout fit you look a mess, but perfectly, you're completely fucked up but eloquently, you are a tramp but elegantly, and it's annoying me, girls with names like Peaches, Toffee and Jet, or any other inanimate object, cos that's all they are, all hollow inside, that's also why they're skinny but without the flies, And i'n not chatting about the ones who've been fake tangoed, who squawk instead of talk, with their knickers round their ankles, the girls i mean don't bother with underwear, they somehow think it's classier, with their white blonde hair in a bob, and skin as pale, so much mascara, their lashes look like tails. Conforming to be different, uniform uniqueness, think they're blessed, gotta wash my image before i come to the fest, aren't 'insert indie band here' the best? Real women are curveballs, not all sweetness and light, but not all sneers, jeers and spite, real women, they have cellulite, when they take off their trousers it leaves indents in their hips, knickers marks on around their thighs, cos you can't photoshop real life, and that's a turn on, cos it means it's real, not just some ten minute trial deal. They're sometimes rude, and sometimes polite, they're something that you cant define. But i'll try. Sometimes bare skin without make up honestly doesn't make men sick, they like it when your face is not a trick. Creative is also turn on, when you're both Andy Warhol AND Edie Sedgwick, when you've read the script but still ad lib. That's what a real woman is. I think. |
What a Water Girl you're a cool drink of water baby and you look like you wanna be drunk you're as fluid as the ocean baby and i'm the boat that wants to be sunk you're the drops of rainwater baby that fall from the sky to my mouth and you're the puddle on my way to work baby the one that makes me wanna a'splash around i got dry lips cos i ain;t got yours to kiss dry mouth feel like somethings amiss dry hands cos i aint got yours to hold so i better soak you up baby soak you and your soul you're what pours from a water can baby and makes the flowers come out to bloom you're the moisture in the milky way baby and you're the frozen lakes on the moon you're the rivers and the reservoirs baby you're the leak that pours from a dyke you're the tears in my crying eyes baby when you say goodbye or you say goodnight i got dry lips cos i ain;t got yours to kiss dry mouth feel like somethings amiss dry hands cos i aint got yours to hold so i better soak you up baby soak up you and your soul I'm as dry as a bone, and i'm as dry as sand, i'm as dry as the desert i'm as dry as a man, a man who needs to be soulmated so come on then lady help me get hydrated i got dry lips cos i ain;t got yours to kiss dry mouth feel like somethings amiss dry hands cos i aint got yours to hold so i better soak you up baby soak up you and your soul you're a cool drink of water baby and you look like you wanna be drunk you're as fluid as the ocean baby and i'm the boat that wants to be sunk |
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