Wednesday, 13 July 2011

John Cooper Clarke

The best punk poet of the punk era John Cooper Clarke. I particulary like Clarkes poems as the narrative to his poems are very genuine and harsh, in my opinion would make great structure for illustration.

The psycho in his rubber gloves
Came round with the boys
He said “if music be the food of love
What's this fucking noise”
A mauler clamped around my wrist
With knuckles white as lard
He hit the hi-fi with his fist
It fell apart in shards
They were drinking all my vodka down
Like low life vicious drunks
I wanna be a man about town
But not in little chunks
I ought to be more manly
And stand up for myself
But blood runs in my family
And I wouldn't have it anywhere else
Liquid cosh a chemical pain
Here comes the ground
It's thanks to the finest medical brains
I'm even around
The video went for a burton
The guys just fell about
When I said “please don't slam the curtains
And take the front door out”
What happened next is kind-of blurred
Confusion took control
All I heard was a dirty word
My eyes began to roll
The light went out one step beyond
There's nothing left to see
My name comes up I can't respond
Not even for a fee
There was no homicide
This much was ascertained
- oh no! I never died
But what of life remained

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