Poor Joe has been unwell

The normal type of unwell

But unwell and so fucking moody

Today in beautiful Richmond

Whilst I was walking by the river

I started to feel doolally

I rested not far from Virginia

She ignored me as normal

Damn it Sky Daddy I feel so nauseous

So I went to the nearest public bog

I just did not want to disgrace myself

Toilets in Richmond apart from being faggot free

Are pretty clean apart from the odd floater

Which is acceptable (without any back splash)

I was sitting there reading the invisible graffiti

When I noticed that a passing homeless person

Had stolen the lilac bog paper to keep warm

I found this cheap and disgusting

But not as disgusting as I soon

Found a copy of The Guardian

Hidden in a corner of the cubicle

Initially I thought there was a porno mag enclosed

Instead of the putrid lies and false news

But there were no faggot mags inside

I have a confession to make

Joe has a confession to make

No not about that I just like French actresses naked

I like underarm hair

I really like underarm hair

On beautiful women (not dogs)

It just turns me on no matter the colour

Bald or bush I am not that fussy or really care

Josie is often shaven depending who is visiting

But I do insist that she does not shave her pits

An odd peccadillo maybe but at least

I am not a trainspotter named Nigel

Sensible time again

My confession

Have I ever wept in a cinema

(Wept Mr Wilson Wept)

What do you think

The answer is yes when I was eighteen

Why

It was a bloody Italian film

Rome Open City

I went in without thought

As it was on a double bill with Sleeping in Seattle

(Yes I confess I have the hots for Meg Ryan now fuck off)

But the Italian film blew me away

(Take that grin off your face Tomkins)

It was unlike anything I had ever seen before

I thought that Italian neo-realism

Was the chap from the Matrix

But it was far more than that

The title of the movie if you understand it

Gave a clue that I did not instantly recognise

As the movie progressed I felt my eyes filling

And when Pina was shot towards the end of part one

I was in full flow but disguised my queerness

By pretending that I had a cold

I was so so hooked and caught up with

Germany Year Zero

The following week along with Bambi (do not ask)

My cinema had matured

A month or so later I took an early girlfriend

Jemima Puddle-Duck

To see Salò o le 120 giornate di Sodoma

She was not impressed

So we caught up with

Last Tango in Paris the next day

We had butter sandwiches

And listened to Cigarettes After Sex

After a messy wank

Happy memories

But this actually confused me

As I had never met a horny cigarette

Nuff Said Joe Nuff Said

And even Novice Nuns deserve orgasms

Nuff Said Joe Nuff Said

But here I am still on this bog

Wiping my arse with The Guardian

I have totally obscured the likeness

Of Jeremy Corbyn which I do not regret

Whether you like it or not (tick here)

I have written this Joe on my phone

(I have washed my hands so do not worry)

On the wall opposite the pristine sinks

An idiot had applied a colourful sticker

It reads

Free Palestine

This has alarmed me

As I have always thought

That one was enough

A pretty girl walks in

Fellow users pretend to stop pissing

And wank openly

(I am a poet get me out of here)

Josie is wearing a white vest

Her dark nipples

Can be seen through the cotton

But importantly

Her hairy pits are on display

I feel better

She has come to collect me

As this is where I normally hang out

When I am not near Virginia

On that bench facing the river

Poor Joe you are in

La La Land again

I insist that I was not in the first movie

And have never visited Los Angeles

I ask that I be called Adeline

For the remainder of the day


Fin

Doolally Joe & His Caring Sister