It’s a gas.

A gas bag.

A big, fat, flammable bag of >BANG!< To say nothing of Crash - and only a dollop of dollar.

Too much bank for your buck.

Bad luck.

It’s fall, that’s all.

Feel the sheaves under your feet go


Time for lunch.

I’m hungry. I’m famished. I’m ready

for a takeaway takeover. Taccos? Take cover

– remember, they’re only thin flimsy shells.

But they fill up so well. With rich healthy smells.

So tempting and bulging and easy to undulge

without the niceties of cutlery. Just grab and eat

and feel the chille’s heat.

And let the juice run down your hands and inside your cuffs.

Get stuffed.

Chew the meat and eat those greens.

Let’s spend and be seen and chow down while the sun’s high.

Let’s order it all – everything off the sky blue lunch van.

I’ll tell you now, I’m a meat and two veg man.

Don’t hedge or hold back. Attack your pangs

with those conspicuous fangs.

Or how about sea food? Slippery, ugly, bulging and salty.

We can trawl for it all – net assets.

Campari and calamari? Maybe I have a yen for squid.

But, ah.

..Lend us a couple of quid.

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