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On plaque-filled Clevedon Pier, A tribute to you, My dear, On strolls long-lasting, I pass your name, And smile, and think how fitting, You always...

My bedroom overlooks the high street and I hear people going out at night coming back through the early hours and I lie in my bed feeling lonely as...

When I rub myself in fake tan I feel like I did as a teenager when the tan wears out I know I can get some more. Deep down I know all the smiles are...

Faces familiar dissolve into street Hoody's, machetes, and synthetic beat Disfigured ethics eroding their course Immoral intention parental divorce...

Birthday, another year notched-up And that 'life begins at' age alarmingly so long ago. And still I feel like a filament Thin, stretched taut,...

You're like a pillow to my tears; Softly comforting my despair.

I'm singing your praises as you help me stagger home, On this cold windy night, Where my hair pours over my forehead, And I'm half man, half train-wreck, I can even poke a little fun, You just laugh, You know Idon't realise what I'm saying, But what you're saying, It fills me up like a helium balloon, And like the caterpillars that crawled away when I dropped the jar On my sixth birthday, My thoughts are dispanding into so many nooks And crannys all filled with worry, Although you just smile, Because I don't realise what I'm saying, A sign snaps in half along the way, You tell me off, It's not my fault, I tell you that but you know better, It's just me these days, I say everything seems a lot darker on the horizon of this world I haven't spent nearly enough time getting to know as I leave it, You don't fret because I don't realise what I'm saying.

Erotic poem

Bill Buckley takes revenge into his own hands in the Wild West and tries to get away with it.