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POEMS

by

Clive Murphy



Volta-faccia

Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie,
Kissed his wife and made her cry.
When the boys came out to play
George and Gilbert ran away.


Impressed Youth to a 'Name' in Debrett

History seeps from your very balls.
I am not worthy to wash your smalls.


A Virgin Speaks

Stop Complaining.
This is On The Job Training.


At a Gathering of Intellectuals

"Never 'eard of Levi-Strauss.
Want a blow-job on the 'ouse?" -
The wisest words boy ever uttered:
He knew which side his bread was buttered.


Mutual Masturbation

Poets polishing.
Critics demolishing.


Windows of the Soul

Soapstone eyes. No surprise.
Wanks from sunset to sunrise.


Literary Conundrum

Could Stein have made love to Toklas
If Alice weren't cockless?


Midday Sex Report

No fun at luncheon.
Little to munch on ~
Erectile dysfunction.


Inspired Explanation to Detective for Lingering in a Public Lavatory

It's not what you think mate.
Enlarged prostate.


One is Lover or Beloved

As I die
It is I
Who shall cry
The more piteously,
Not he.




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Clive Murphy was born in Liverpool in 1935. He was educated and brought up in Ireland. In 1958, he came to live in London where he has devoted himself to writing and teaching. His three books of verse, Sour Grapes , Cave Canem and Orts and All are available from Brick Lane Books, 132 Brick Lane, London E1 priced at 9.99 each.




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