|1||A Poem Without Real Words|
|3||Along The Corridor, Up The Stairs|
|4||Andrey Arshavin Et Al's Strange Situation 1978|
|5||Black By Popular Demand|
|6||Bombs Over Bangor|
|7||Eyes That Would Shed Tears, Had They Water To Spare|
|8||If Bullets Be Kisses, Then You Are An Uzi|
|10||Kings Of Leona Lewis Hamilton Academical|
|11||Quite Hard To Tell|
|12||Sarcophagus Full Of Sarcoma|
|13||Scream If It's Too Cold For You... Cry If You Like|
|14||Telekinetic Aesthetic Of The Restless Corpse|
|15||The Cat Becomes Terminally Ill|
|16||The Dog Rapist And His Unquenchable Thirst For Lucozade|
|17||The Green Bungalow On The Moon|
| A summer day in a vast expanse of green|
lying on the ground looking up at the blue,
with my wonderful lady who likes to wear red
would be where I would like to be when I'm dead.
A winter day in a vast expanse of grey
lying on the ground looking up at the grey
with my wonderful lady crying, covered in . . .
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|The Green Bungalow On The Moon|
| My bungalow has many stories, but most of them are blue, |
My garden has a secret and I'm guarding it from you.
Walk up the stairs and stare out the back window;
I will be hiding in the tall grass.
Indoors, the war claims another life.
He is a solar panel. She is a windmill.
My sun has now set, and his son is . . .
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