Celebrity smoking
crunching, fiddling
and raging.
Those wind up pigs
are here to stay.
The frittering, fingering
boiling and stuttering
wind up sows,
here to stay
and f**k the armies of slug footed
press ganged kids.
We labour nothing
only to seek a life beyond the vain;
a foul glitzy whirlwind
that terrorizes ambition
and gifts it to the sloth cameras.
Autographs and semi literate biographies
become bibles to the unbibled,
those decibel children who seek gold
before a soul...
Steven Francis poems 2012