Punks on parade

poem by: Andrew Shepherd
Written on Jan 03, 2019 

The red hair of a hundred punks
Falling over like drunken skunks
Fish net tights and studded leather
Doc Martin boots on a granny named Heather
Fosters, Stella and Jagerbomb drinks
A bit of carnage in the air me thinks
Speakers vibrate down the dirty old street
Blue haired mohicans stomping their feet
Safety pins, studs and eyebrow rings
Absinthe, flowers and strange other things
Let’s cause distruption with a snarling blockade
Watch the anarchy of the punks on parade

 

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Frank Hornby . commented on Jan 03, 2019 at 4:22pm
Great poem......whatever happened to the anarchy?.....way back in the 70s....

 

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