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