Ah bliss,




it was to be alive that day,

that madmen talking to angels,

would let the English fell irony

and the Americans forgiveness.

A thousand new, solar powered, yellow taxis,

would be shipped to Cuba,

from sunny,  kiss me quick Florida

and Scandinavian socialist tarts,

with blonde Norma Jean hair,

would photograph themselves,

kissing the president of the United States.

Life on the planet schizophrenia,

salt fish in the ackee,

whiskey all round;

they are laying to rest,

the poet of the world.



fin