Monday, Monday, looks good to me !

All together comrades! (Through loudhailer) What do we want? The Poetry Bus! When do we want it? Not quite today, or tomorrow, or the next day but MONDAY would be deadly, please, thank you very much.
What do we want? A drink! When do we want it ? NOW! What have we got? Nothing, except that left over bottle fromsomebody elses holiday to Corfu, Kumquat liquer! What do we want? Kumquat liquer! When do we want it? NOW!
What does it taste loike? Venos cough syrup and bleach! What do we need? Some more! The label says it is 'Old Fortress' but the taste says it's 'Old mattress'


Okay I'm putting away the loudhailer as it's frightening the Donkeys, one of them almost moved. Actually technically speaking Donkey may be an Ass, but don't tell him.( He's terrified of making an ass o himself.)


And I was also thinking (and you can't steal my idea because it's already patented) after that Kumquat liquer, why not make highly alcoholic medicine? I'm sure there would be a market. After all ,they already try to disguise medicines by making them strawberry flavoured or aniseed or mint or blackcurrant or orange etc. So why not make them 70% proof and market them as medicinal liquers?
Not only do they make you feel better, they make you feel GOOD ! Take the misery out of illness I say.Imagine the joy of the cure and if you die at least you'll die swinging from the lampshade instead of fading away in a miserable bed.

Imagine the wonderful scenario as you crawl paralytic along the street after 3 bottles of Kumquat neat alcohol antibiotics.Your neighbour sees you and says" Are you okay?" and you reply " No, I'm fuckin dying.Fancy climbing that lamp post?"

But I digress. And Mrs EEjit she tigress. What I'm trying to say is that the Poetry Bus is still on its world tour and it is currently in the capable hands of PURE FICTION.... Pure Fiction Bus Driver who has set a challenging but interesting task and everyone/both of you, that read this blog should throw down their shackles, their knitting, their Wii, their wifi, their wife/husban/ lover. Bin the Pot Noodle, switch off the TV, stop worming the cat, feeding the family, playing darts, skiing, naked mud wrestling,doing the crossword, tantric yoga, applying hemorrhoid cream, counting the stars, emptying the bin. Forget the pear,embrace the Kumquat and write a poem for the bus!


And incidentally (Re revious post), though don't quote me ,I am an unreliable sauce, sorry source- I don't enter poetry competitions!
a) because I can't afford them
b) because I wouldn't win them and
c) because in all honesty I'm not feckin interested in them and all they signify/ represent/uphold/promote.

So trichotomy. Do I like poetry comps? No. Would I like to win one? Yes. Would you pay to enter one? No.

The last ( and it may also have been the first) poetry comp I entered was the Patrick Kavanaaarrgh (mucho presteegious) just over a year ago and that told me told me all I needed to know. It cost me €15 to enter and I didn't even receive an acknowledgement let alone a rejection.That's very bad value for money. Great for the winner sans doubt but the poor schmucks like me, the cannon fodder? Nah! I'm very docile but there are only so many hoops I will jump through before I BITE!

There are one or two magazines I like and respect and I submit to them now and again and I'm happy, if they print the odd thing ( very odd thing), I'm even happier.

And remember, it costs NOTHING, NADA, ZIP, to submit to a mag. OR THE POETRY BUS!

Any way What Am I saying? I 'm saying get on the bus here... Pure Fiction Bus Driver


GET OFF your ARSE and get on THE BUS ! Pure Fiction Bus Driver
You know it makes sense!

Also, another thing. The Sun SHONE today.That can mean only one thing......... Jingle-jangle, jewellery,jewellery, now-then, now-then...