Ursula De La Mer
Biography of Ursula De La Mer
Delivered to her 'mum' and 'dad' in a milk carton on a cold winter's night. Feed on bourbon and cola lollipops, til she was seven. Now She's a vegetarian.
Writes to keep away the polio.
Ursula De La Mer's Works:
'Breezing Up: A Beginner's Guide To Sailing'
Ursula De La Mer Poems
Buddy Holly's Winter Dance Party
You're looking good in your powderblue suit, I got on my heels and my malt liquer flute. And the sitter has put the young ones to bed, And I'll just say goodnight put a kiss on their heads,
When I Live
Teach your children Not to give in, To the Poisons in the alleys And the cancers in the bin.
Race Car Dreams
Painted lady on my wrist, Eyeballs trapped in his clenched fist, hieroglphics on subway wall, striptease hear's her lover's call,
All Is Vanity
red thread tumbles from the nape my girl's life it will trace on the bank beside the road the blinded driver's space
Post Moderm Girl
In the bath In the sleep of late afternoon The steam rolls up In a limosine like, and steps out
The Happy Crab Apple Song
The green apples that promise so much, That grow inside your cheeks And are hidden softly, away For your eyes not to see
It's hot in the city, The tar sticks to soles, Sun burns on penthouse apartments, There are dirtyfaced children
My Most Precious Posessions
It's Alright Ma, I'Ve Put The Milk Away
The stitches on your body, are done in butter twine, with the teardrops in my fingers, cleansing all i think is mine,
Spiders crawling up the vein, the glass shards on the kitchen floor, the shouts from last night's game remain, branded on the headstones of the dead and poor,
Junette, bee in the night, sweet honey suckle. Keep on shrinking, getting smaller. Now her hands are like mittens, cannot grasp, just pat and stroke, And she's tiny and her clothes don't fit and the chairs are too high.
You got pistols in your fingers,
And your happy and content,
when your shooting at my knees.
love to touch your tatts
stroke the sunflowers on you cheeks
and the pumpkins in your garage,
are all hot like limosines.
I'll give you coke, in your christmas stocking