Va Va BOOM! It's THE BUS wit Bonkers BILL!

So Bill has set us a tricky set of instructos, some passengers have leapt aboard , others have crumbled by the wayside waiting for the chipper van and performing seals. Could be a long wait.

But anyway we had to think of/steal a line, delete the second half of it and invent new endings and then boil it for 20 mins, leave to simmer for a further 20 then serve (cooled) on a bed of rice with a Domestos and paraquat dressing.

I was going to explain the provenance of this poem to explain it a bit but I've lost the plot so I might do it later. Best just post the thing now. My line was from the Yeats poem called ' Ireland 1913' ......and was 'Romantic Ireland's dead and gone.'

Romantic Ireland retched and wrung,

Dead and gone.Half-cut pilgrim

Cold shouldered in The International.

A drunken parody plastic Saint Francis

broken and betrayed,

sandwiches soup and beds made

not for sleep for lying in.Barman

in namesake dungeon 15 Baggot street,

casts a cold eye and cold tongue.

Kavanagh no ghost to be seen

Save for the obscene boredom, neglect

Nurtured in McDaids off Graffton Boulevard

Memories left to the picture postcards

who will remember to weep dry tears

for words so poor in spirit.

To save myself from hypocrisy,

the price of a last glass,

every coin posessed fumbled

with slur of patronising words

to grubby styrofoam.

The vultures have their pick

Dole out the liquid drugs

Behan battered nobody

Buried in some forgotten hole

the kindness of strangers lives on without us

Ferried off to some foreign land

Like O’Leary In his grave.