Jack Williams

Losing your virginity
Is likely to be sh**
It’s not all it’s cracked up to be
Let’s be honest, is it?
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I did everything I could
- which was nothing.
So there’s nothing left to do
- but do nothing.
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I like a poem that hits you
Like a karate chop in the face
Short and sharp and straight and true
That knocks you out of place
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Down behind the dustbin,
I met a dog called Lizzie.
I asked what she was doing,
'**** off, I'm far too busy.'
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A soggy bit of paper
They found it in the bin
I said, It was a just caper
But they said it was a sin
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If I turn to religion
I hope I’ll still be young
Not making desperate decisions
While I’m coughing up my lungs
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I loved you with my hands,
I loved you underground;
You unveiled your master plan
Without making any sound.
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You were my first cup of tea after work
You were the shower, washed the sweat and dirt
You were my well-thumbed naughty magazine
You were the newspaper in the morning
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Screwed up like a piece of paper
Crumpled on the floor
Nice to meet you see you later
You’re not needed anymore
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I really don’t care
If I’m buried at sea
Just as long as you’re there
And they bury me deep
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I lost the joy of music
My resources were all spent
I don’t think I really miss it
And I don’t care where it went
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You never sought to hurt me
There was little you could do
Love ain’t for the deserving
There’s a fundamental truth
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I will drive you down to the scrap heap
Where I’ll watch you crushed, and the window glass spray,
Squeezed into a useless lump of twisted metal and shattered plastic
Then a giant mechanical arm will hoist you up
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When I was a young pup I made a decision
To fall in love, so I fell for religion
We held hands in church; we chatted at school
For a while we ignored the unfortunate truth:
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You taught me love
When you let me hold you
With my fingerless gloves
And my old hat askew
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Your hair upon the pillow like the roots of a riverside tree
Your breathing softly sighing like the singing of the sea
The curtain slightly drawn so an arm of light is thrown
It reaches through and touches you, it touches you and me.
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Could tainting the fact with words
make the meaning untrue?
When the act of making it heard
is so hard to undo,
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There you are, my friend
Immortalised by the Internet
Temporal life at an end
I would never have placed a bet
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Things go astray
If you leave them too long
Loose ends fray
So keep the knot strong
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