Jihad Gent (2012)

by brightonsauce

Some flaws, but now I like the flaws.

Jihad Gent

The internet is not working. Weep for my lung is unplugged. Shining from the laptop and I chug morphiose. Now I cannot send the letter or research in the university library. The marvellous invention has taken hold of me. Oh sickness I am shallow, a shadow by the door and this means that I will have to buy a stamp and mix with the poor.

In the town post office I am the old bullock in the soup queue rattling rebel with a lozenge under the tongue. Hysteria provokes the mind’s eye. I stick up the tommy-gun.

‘Give me first class service I fought in three world wars. Listen to me sunshine, get face on the floor.’

The bullet is true through the ceiling. Some yellow traitor has called and the cops are out the front. Time is of the essence when robbery turns to hunt.

‘You won’t take me copper the Robin Hood is back and I’m fighting for the public in my anorak.’

As beige graces my gateway there is a sound outside. They are cheering me to the sky. I hop hooded to a blue Allegro and I wave the golden girls goodbye.

‘Now watch this on the telly’ says the fella with the dinner on his knees. Is Clegg in Parliament.’

‘We back the gallant hero, the granny-kissing gent.’

And that is me, I am the leader of the trolleys, the three wheelers and the blind. I’ll be back my lovers with revenge for all mankind. Listen I wave the cane for freedom and I bolt lightening to your life. We are going to grab their money and spread honey by my knife. We’ll march the rich down Mayfair and pass rolex to the crew, meet Colonel Jerry Atric, he is my trusted number two.


How I planned a worldwide ramble in the green field without the hedge, but you mashed me, a martyr with your dentures on the edge.

You said that ‘We are happy here in England. We are loyal and we are proud. Yes, humble in the hovels or as faces in the crowd. So let us boil the kettle, subject, and bow milk before the tea.’ You plumped a juicy cushion to watch the Jubilee