Here they come,
The Budgerigars of Death;
The Green Rabbits from Hell,
Riding the Devil's Stallion
(Which has just overtaken
An "M"-Reg. Reliant Kitten
Outside Shrewsbury.)
Stand aside for Lucifer's bearded Goblons,
In designer Originals;
Satan's pot-bellied slaves,
Leather lizards from Chippenham.
Beelzebub's Hamsters of Oblivion
On a Yamaha 500.
Led by the Grand Vizier of Evil,
Into Megadeth and Slayer,
Tatooing " Born to Die "
In felt -tip marker, on his knuckles.
Into Helloween and Annihilator,
And a daytime job at the Exhaust Centre.
Ripping out inner Tubes
As if they were Sharon Tate's intestines.
Apollons envoys, high on Gateway dumpies.
They're gonna kick as in Barmouth,
Gonna tear down Aberavon,
Riding chronium serpents,
With ten installments left to pay.
Belial's Boys;
Soldiers of the Seven Serpents
( Not eay to say when you wear dentures
after a serious ruck with your own
handlebars near the A5 interchange).
They're gonna mess up Corwen,
Gonna play Deadbeast and Greyhound
Records in the Jukie in that cafe
Near Llangollen, just to terrify the
Cliff Richard fans.
Worshippping Bauxite Angels
Playing Bantamweight chords
In Groups fronted by sad old men
In Spandex pants,
Nore derivative of Pavarotti
Than Delta Blues.
About as macho as a washing machine.
Unable to lyricise over anything
More creative than Gothic Boyhood imagery
Or 8,000 different, pathetic ways
To humiliate a woman.
FROM
Poetry Wales Volume 26, No 4
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