by Nick Gisburne
You sicken me. I see your stupid face
And want to put a bullet in your brain,
But only echoes bounce around that space.
No brick, no bomb, could ever cause you pain.
More gormless than a bobbing rubber duck,
Incompetence infects your DNA,
A sorry, senseless, miserable fuck,
With nothing, nil, intelligent to say.
A soggy sprout would beat you in a test,
If all the questions quantified your wits.
For someone to be dazzled, dazed, impressed,
They’d have to be entirely off their tits.
You’re every drunken dream I ever had.
A simple sound, your name, insults me: Dad.
