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Bird Flu - a poem of sorts

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by Joe Ambrose, Literary Editor for outsideleft.com
originally published: June, 2005
Bird Flu - a Poem of sorts

BIRD FLU

Please be fair and please don't stare.
And don't be square. There's hair down there.

I had to go for Burroughs, Beckett or Beuys.
Given half a choice, I'd go for Joyce.

The old man walks like a faggot walks.
He still talks the talk but he can't walk the walk.

I'm the man in black until things get brighter.
Bring me the head of a singer-songwriter

Too many people, too many chickens.
Asian flu. The world sickens.

I'm going with a gal with grey hair.
People stop and stare but I don't really care..

Too many people, too many chickens.
Asian flu. Don't know what to do.

see more stories from outsideleft's Fiction & Poetry archive »»

Joe Ambrose
Literary Editor

Joe Ambrose has written 14 books, including Chelsea Hotel Manhattan and The Fenian Reader. Joe is currently working on his next book, Look at Us Now - The Life and Death of Muammar Ghadaffi, which is an expanded version of a story first published in the anthology CUT UP! Visit Joe's website for all the latest info: JoeAmbrose.co.uk.

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