Your house isn’t worth the matches I lit on the sun.
Your house couldn’t get into the Paris Review.
Your house is made of left shoes and resentment.
You’ve spent too much time trying to count the pop charts.
You could never go past 100, Charlie, could you?
You are clearly out of touch – Taylor Swift is out.
You don’t know – apparently Ed Sheeran is the current big thing.
You don’t hear him on the radio every day it seems.
Your iPod is dysfunctional, it is a bad night at a family dinner.
Charlie, you’ve been on the charlie too much, charlie Charlie.
– Aaron Kent
considering most poets are self obsessed wankers
i greet you at the start of a glittering car
trip down the m1 to buy yourself birthday flowers
considering most poets on this site masturbate to their interview
starring into a mirror miming ‘pretty eyes, pretty eyes’
do i really want to be associated with such clowns
aaron the yokel…..you ain’t but laid a glove on me
you are a pussy…….aching to be painted pink
i’ve no petrol for you…….take your cap and your questions
– Charlie Baylis