On the Sad But Invitable Demise of English in an Age of Revolution and the Evolution of Alternative Modes of Expression

silli englush babies,
dont you know dat

when de revolution koms

dere wont be no koncern

bout ding, dang

danglin participles

or scati split infinituves

???

dems just yesterday's

sorri lunch menu -

moldy olive loaf on

stale wonda bread,

eatun by fashitikal komisars

of putrid englush speachafyin.

sweet englush babies,

get out of your steryle old

kublicals and embrace

the wisdum of the dwarf...

dem rules you luv so much,

dey be made fur breakin

n life be made fur livin'

n pints be made fur drinkin'

n chips be made fur dippin'

and now a luv poem...

tra la li

tra la loo

damian's poems

are a lot like poo.

tra la li

tra la leff

i'm still waitin'

to be amused by jeff.