Today, we again attempt to bring new breadth to our displays of creativity, the new string on our bow? Poetry:
A Poem in Bank Tube Station's Honour, By Edwin Hesselthwite
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The Central line,The District and Circle lines,
The contortions of the separate limbs of the Northern Line,
Meeting in one spot, beneath Capitalism’s dark heart and birth.
I HATE FUCKING BANK TUBE STATION
I HATE FUCKING BANK TUBE STATION
I HATE FUCKING BANK TUBE STATION
I HATE FUCKING BANK TUBE STATION
Labyrinthine, dirty, convoluted and dim.
I HATE BANK FUCKING TUBE STATION
I HATE BANK FUCKING TUBE STATION
I HATE BANK FUCKING TUBE STATION
I HATE BANK FUCKING TUBE STATION
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Little Man What Now continues to bring you the fruits of its authors' wisdom - we apologise for our inability to write poetry for shit, and our total lack of understanding of metre.
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Why don't you tell us what you really think?
"The foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing and swearing is a vice so mean and low that every person of sense and character detests and despises it." - George Washington
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