Shed Man

Shed.

The whimsical whomsical garden orifice
The place
Where I
Stick my oroface.
When I'm not welcome
In my other shed.


Tools.


Include a pile of soil-stained magazines
A picture of a dog
With Bernard Breslaw's head
Before the rise to fame
Of Photoshop instead.
And all the space and time
That cannot be measured
By men with matted minds aloof.

I will burn in my shed.
I will burn with my "lad" in my hand
And a pair of guilty shorts
Like a rope around my knees
Whilst the moon watches
Through a crack
Like the dirty little moon it is.

Filthy
Moon.

Threesome
Moon.

Just you and me son,
Moon.

And the "lad" in my hand, son.

A cosmic tryst.
Fuck me I'm pissed.