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The Daily Poetry Movement

I accept that I have anger and pain but for some reason the happiness does not go away. I am grinning ear to ear with happiness. I feel like learning how to do cartwheels, do face painting, learning the latest in childrens jokes. I feel like spending hours telling all the dirty jokes I knew when I was 10. But mostly I feel like looking your eyes again. Rise up!
Here's a fuck you note from Kate Bush to Laura Bush. Or maybe it is a song by Kate Bush called Tenner. Maybe I have it wrong. But all I know its the haunting refrain of the governement blowing the safe up to get to my money. And courting the pocketbooks of the bastards. But you know what? We'll get those fuckers back. Money is a transitory illusion based upon the willingness to accept it's symbolic value. We are being less and less dependent on its symbolism. The hold will break. Those who impaired life for silly "currency" may suddenly have the urge to take it all back. Take it all back. Give! Give! Give! Give! Give each other hugs, smiles, warm arm caresses, give so much love that we all feel rich! Bless you hearts for listening, I appreciate it, but it's time for me to rock n roll kittens! Enjoy the poem! Check out the kate Bush song about Woomera!

There goes a tenner

Okay, remember.
Okay, remember
That we have just allowed
Half an hour
To get in, do it, and get out.

The sense of adventure
Is changing to danger.
The signal has been given.
I go in.
The crime begins.

My excitement
Turns into fright.

All my words fade.
What am I gonna say?
Mustn't give the game away.

We're waiting.
We're waiting.
We're waiting.

We got the job sussed.
This shop's shut for business.
The lookout has parked the car,
But kept the engine running.
Three beeps means trouble's coming.

I hope you remember
To treat the gelignite tenderly for me.
I'm having dreams about things
Not going right.
Let's leave in plenty of time tonight.

Both my partners
Act like actors:
You are Bogart,
He is George Raft,
That leaves Cagney and me.
('What about Edward G.?')

We're waiting.
We're waiting.
We're waiting.

You blow the safe up.
Then all I know is I wake up,
Covered in rubble. One of the rabble
Needs mummy.
('What's all this then?')
The government will never find the money.
('What's all this then?')

I've been here all day,
A star in strange ways.*
Apart from a photograph
They'll get nothing from me,
Not until they let me see my solicitor.

Ooh, I remember
That rich, windy weather
When you would carry me,
Pockets floating
In the breeze.

Ooh, there goes a tenner.
Hey, look! There's a fiver.
There's a ten-shilling note.
Remember them?
That's when we used to vote for him.