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All Posts, Humour, My Brighton, Poetry And Prose

The Ode Of The Satanic Seagull…..

Look, your tormentors, your coastal Kings, the rulers from the edge of your eyes.

All seeing, all evil, our name means fear, our deeds much more….

Gazing, watchful, and ready- your comforting fare the exposed and mouth ready prey..

Our providers, our clowns, our culinary captives….

We were here before you, and will also be after. Our domain, our rules- harsh and without remorse.

Such desire for you, so unloving and cruel, from the stomach not the heart, from our twisted minds- but not our conscience.

So stay a little longer; for our supper is due, for our bowels are weak, and our warped gay abandon needs its subject…

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