Fuck the moon with its own silver spoon!: A poem 

Posted bymontecyrilPosted inUncategorized

Fuck the moon with its own silver spoon! 

Its fat cat doesn’t fit a magic mat 

And the clawy crab wants a head start 

The crone is a drone, very much a fart 

Fuck the moon, we have no room 

The fish wants to eat more than just quiche 

Will it share, with Prakash Saint Paul, its misbegotten dish? 

Then we’ll see which of us get our soul-felt wish 

Prakash Saint Paul simply doesn’t want to suffer for his sins 

The complicity of him and Labor, in treachery; can it wear me thin? 

Though I’ve patiently lived my life on needles and pins 

I can, if I want to, pulverise them like tin 

Published by montecyril

Hi, I am Monte Cyril Rodrigues and live in Melbourne, Australia. I am a retired journalist. I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I've had voices and visions all my life. I think it is a spiritual experience, my doctors think otherwise. I am a deeply spiritual person and keep having experiences with otherworldly realms.

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