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King Of The Dung Heap! - Poem by Mark Heathcote

King of the dung heap
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles
Dreaming someday, she’ll find her prince
Yes, I’m a shallow no backbone kind of guy
I’m a vector a virus a bullet
An arrowhead descending
Even; now I was really meant to be dead not rising-up
Bubbling-out of this dung pond
Larcenous bed bottom or on top
I’m in the whites of their eye-sockets malaise revolving
I’m in their hearts tears ritually vanquished.

I call them mother sister & brother
I call them, lover…
Or even superimposed my spiritual leader/father
But every kiss is a superimposed trigger
With another mouthful of life to smother
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles
Dreaming someday, she’ll find her Prince of Wales.

Oh she’s as shallow as a stainless steel grilled elevator
Twenty floors down. High heels red with envy
For that lot in their penthouse
In their gravity free-zone helter-skelter
Yes, she too is a vector a bullet
An arrowhead a Flintstone new kind of girl
No longer dissenting, true I’d of liked to
Have been a string-less bow with not an arrow
I’d have liked to have been that hollowed-out barrel
Chamber drilled slightly askew with a flower held within.

I’d rather have been that than some silver bullet
Teetering on its way through a lone pacifist skull
Squirming wiz-bang, is that lobotomy, nearly done
But I’m now King of the dung heap
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles

I prefer buxom page 3 girls with very few morals
Dreaming someday, they’ll find their prince of fairy tales

Yes, I’m a shallow no backbone kind of Hector
I’m a vector a virus a bullet
An arrowhead descending
Even; though I never meant to rise-up
Bubble-out of this dung pond larcenous bed
I’m in the whites of their eye-sockets malaise revolving
I’m in their hearts tears ritually vanquished.

I call them mother sister & my ignoble brother
I call them, lover…
Or even my superimposed chairman Mao leader/father
But every kiss is a superimposed trigger
With another mouthful of life to smother
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles
Dreaming someday, she’ll find her Prince of Wales.

I’m as shallow as that stainless steel grilled elevator
Twenty floors down doing something to her her on the basement floor
Oh I’ll also fill my boots with envy
For that lot in their penthouse
Gravity free-zone helter-skelter
But yes they too are a vector a bullet
An arrowhead, Flintstone new kind of guy
No longer dissenting true I’d of liked to
Have been a string-less bow with not an arrow
I’d have liked to have been that hollowed-out barrel
Chamber drilled slightly off key with a flower in its pipe hole.

I’d rather have been that than them or some silver bullet
Teetering on its way through a lone pacifist skull
Squirming wiz-bang, is that my lobotomy nearly done
But because know I’m the king of the dung heap
I’ve got better things to do than eat horse meat
And or lying down with ambergris for ankles
I’ve given up having scruples and tardy loose fitting morals
Look into my eyes there like two new drilled oil wells.
Because know, I’m the new king of the dung heap!
I’m the king of the dung heap!
The king of the dung heap!
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles
Dreaming someday, she’ll find her prince
Yes, I’m a shallow no backbone kind of guy
I’m a vector a virus a bullet
An arrowhead descending
Even; now I was really meant to be dead not rising-up
Bubbling-out of this dung pond
Larcenous bed bottom or on top
I’m in the whites of their eye-sockets malaise revolving
I’m in their hearts tears ritually vanquished.

I call them mother sister & brother
I call them, lover…
Or even superimposed my spiritual leader/father
But every kiss is a superimposed trigger
With another mouthful of life to smother
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles
Dreaming someday, she’ll find her Prince of Wales.

Oh she’s as shallow as a stainless steel grilled elevator
Twenty floors down. High heels red with envy
For that lot in their penthouse
In their gravity free-zone helter-skelter
Yes, she too is a vector a bullet
An arrowhead a Flintstone new kind of girl
No longer dissenting, true I’d of liked to
Have been a string-less bow with not an arrow
I’d have liked to have been that hollowed-out barrel
Chamber drilled slightly askew with a flower held within.

I’d rather have been that than some silver bullet
Teetering on its way through a lone pacifist skull
Squirming wiz-bang, is that lobotomy, nearly done
But I’m now King of the dung heap
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles

I prefer buxom page 3 girls with very few morals
Dreaming someday, they’ll find their prince of fairy tales

Yes, I’m a shallow no backbone kind of Hector
I’m a vector a virus a bullet
An arrowhead descending
Even; though I never meant to rise-up
Bubble-out of this dung pond larcenous bed
I’m in the whites of their eye-sockets malaise revolving
I’m in their hearts tears ritually vanquished.

I call them mother sister & my ignoble brother
I call them, lover…
Or even my superimposed chairman Mao leader/father
But every kiss is a superimposed trigger
With another mouthful of life to smother
I’ve had enough of eating horse meat
Lying down with ambergris for ankles
Dreaming someday, she’ll find her Prince of Wales.

I’m as shallow as that stainless steel grilled elevator
Twenty floors down doing something to her her on the basement floor
Oh I’ll also fill my boots with envy
For that lot in their penthouse
Gravity free-zone helter-skelter
But yes they too are a vector a bullet
An arrowhead, Flintstone new kind of guy
No longer dissenting true I’d of liked to
Have been a string-less bow with not an arrow
I’d have liked to have been that hollowed-out barrel
Chamber drilled slightly off key with a flower in its pipe hole.

I’d rather have been that than them or some silver bullet
Teetering on its way through a lone pacifist skull
Squirming wiz-bang, is that my lobotomy nearly done
But because know I’m the king of the dung heap
I’ve got better things to do than eat horse meat
And or lying down with ambergris for ankles
I’ve given up having scruples and tardy loose fitting morals
Look into my eyes there like two new drilled oil wells.
Because know, I’m the new king of the dung heap!
I’m the king of the dung heap!
The king of the dung heap!


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