I stumbled across this fabulous piece of poetry by John Cooper Clarke called 'Beasley Street'. I have been using the stanzas from the poem in my shutterbug operations like a woman possessed. I came across it when i was looking for popular slangs and phrases (internet truly is a El Dorado of our times).
Beasley Street
FAR FROM CRAZY PAVEMENTS
...THE TASTE OF SILVER SPOONS
A CLINICAL ARRANGEMENT
...ON A DIRTY AFTERNOON
WHERE THE FECAL GERMS OF MR. FREUD
...ARE RENDERED OBSOLETE
THE LEGAL TERM IS NULL AND VOID
IN THE CASE OF...
IN THE CHEAP SEATS WHERE MURDER BREEDS
SOMEBODY IS OUT OF BREATH
SLEEP IS A LUXURY THEY DON'T NEED
...A SNEAK PREVIEW OF DEATH
BELLADONNA IS YOUR FLOWER
MANSLAUGHTER YOUR MEAT
SPEND A YEAR IN A COUPLE OF HOURS
ON THE EDGE OF
WHERE THE ACTION ISN'T
THAT'S WHERE IT IS
STATE YOUR POSITION
VACANCIES EXIST
IN AN X-CERTIFICATE EXERCISE
EX-SERVICEMEN EXCRETE
KEITH JOSEPH SMILES AND A BABY DIES
FROM THE BOARDING HOUSES AND THE BEDSHEETS FULL OF
...ACCIDENTS AND FLEAS
SOMEBODY GETS IT
WHERE THE MISSING PERSONS FREEZE
WEARING DEAD MEN'S OVERCOATS
YOU CAN'T SEE THEIR FEET
A RIFF JOINT SHUTS - OPENS UP
CARS COLLIDE, COLOURS CLASH
DISASTER MOVIE STUFF
FOR A MAN WITH THE FU MANCHU MOUSTACHE
REVENGE IS NOT ENOUGH
THERE'S A DEAD CANARY ON A SWIVEL SEAT
THERE'S A RAINBOW IN THE ROAD
MEANWHILE
SILENCE IS THE CODE
HOT BENEATH THE COLLAR
...AN INSPECTOR CALLS
WHERE THE PERISHING STINK OF SQUALOR
...IMPREGNATES THE WALLS
THE RATS HAVE ALL GOT RICKETS
THEY SPIT THROUGH BROKEN TEETH
THE NAME OF THE GAME IS NOT CRICKET
CAUGHT OUT ON ...
THE HIPSTER AND HIS HIRED HAT
DRIVE A BORROWED CAR
YELLOW SOCKS AND A PINK CREVAT
NOTHING LA-DI-DAH
O-A-P
MOTHER-TO-BE
WATCH THE THREE-PIECE SUITE
WHEN SHITSTOPPER DRAINS
AND CROCODILE SKIS
ARE SEEN ON ...
THE KINGDOM OF THE BLIND
...A ONE-EYED MAN IS KING
BEAUTY PROBLEMS ARE REDEFINED
...THE DOORBELLS DO NOT RING
A LIGHT BULB BURST LIKE A BLISTER
THE ONLY FORM OF HEAT
WHERE A FELLOW SELLS HIS SISTER
...DOWN THE
THE BOYS ARE ON THE WAGON
THE GIRLS ARE ON THE SHELF
THEIR COMMON PROBLEM IS
...THAT THEY'RE NOT SOMEONE ELSE
THE DIRT BLOWS OUT
THE DUST BLOWS IN
YOU CAN'T KEEP IT NEAT
IT'S A FULLY FURNISHED DUSTBIN
...
VINCE THE AGEING SAVAGE
BETRAYS NO KIND OF LIFE
...BUT THE SMELL OF YESTERDAY'S CABBAGE
AND THE GHOST OF LAST YEAR'S WIFE
THROUGH A CONSTANT HAZE
OF DEODORANT SPRAYS
HE SAYS ...RETREAT
ALSATIANS DOG THE DIRTY DAYS
DOWN THE MIDDLE OF
PEOPLE TURN TO POISON
QUICK AS LAGER TURNS TO PISS
SWEETHEARTS ARE PHYSICALLY SICK
EVERY TIME THEY KISS
IT'S A SOCIOLOGIST'S
EACH DAY REPEATS
UNEASY, CHEASY, GREASY, QUEASY
...BEASTLY,
EYES DEAD AS VICIOUS FISH
LOOK AROUND FOR LAUGHS
IF I COULD HAVE JUST ONE WISH
I WOULD BE A PHOTOGRAPH
ON A PERMANENT MONDAY MORNING
GET LOST OR FALL ASLEEP
WHEN THE YELLOW CATS ARE YAWNING
AROUND THE BACK OF
