The Mind Of Jon Swarley

Jon: I will eat nearly all pate but will not that green pate
Hana: Would that be called fate? Fuzzy pate?

On a bright sunny day
Down at the seaside,
On beach towels,
Krissie and them lied.
The wind on their skin,
They felt free,
Until Krissie announced
Her new jet-ski.
With a cowgirl had,
She straddled her ride,
Lassoo in hand,
Legs either side.
Twisting the throttle,
She hurtled away,
Sweat dripping down
In the heat of day.
Screaming out loud,
She lost her grip,
She flew off her ride
An impressive back flip.
Slapping the water
Before sinking down
Skin bashed read
Her face in a frown.
Poor little Krissie
Weeping at sea,
In as much pain
As a girl can be.
Finally through tears,
She managed to yell
‘Compared to a quad bike
This hurts like hell!’
A shout returned
‘Have you ridden one?’
‘NO!’ She returned,
But it looks like fun!

I went to the pet shop

Last Thursday morn,

At about the time

A new leopard was born.

It had green fur

Wierd as that may be

And the cutest face

That you’d ever see!

I took that baby cat

And drove home in my van

Which is when our

Catty friendship began

We played with string

And little toy rats

We were the happiest

Of all housebound cats.

But when I grew up

I had to go to work,

In dark, smelly alleys

Is where I would lurk.

I mugged a young man

With a desparado ‘stache

And on his broken bones

I took a quick slash.

But when I got home

The cat was pissed,

I’d been gone for days

So his birthday was missed.

He was so annoyed

With this little slight,

That he growled angrily

His intention a fight.

He jumped at my face

Claws honed sharp

And sliced me up

Like a fresh caught carp.

Now I’m lying here

Bleeding myself out

My lungs ripped up

Unable to shout.

Difficult to breathe

My vision dims

And so I cease

Leapard eating my limbs

RORY THE BOXERS

Look they’ve got legs

But it still needs a head!

What’s that poking out?

Get the f**k out of my bed!

-

I DON’T KNOW

I don’t know

Why you all stare

Just because

I have ginger hair.

Not just on my head

But also down there

With my ginger chest

I look like a bear.

The ginge in my muff

Leaves men in stitches!

But I still rape them

And leave them in ditches!

Now, rest assured readers

I don’t touch girles.

They never have enough

Little short curlies.

I have a hammer

It rests on my belt

It’s the hardest hammer

You’d ever have felt.

My beautiful hammer

Sitting in it’s box

I love it so much

When it gets up and rocks

My sweet little hammer

Down in the shed

I only get it out

To nail in my bed.