Here's one of my favourite poems. It's apparently quite famous in Britain, but for some reason, he's quite obscure in America. In fact, I'm considering writing a story based on the crimes of Cary Stayner and using a passage from the last stanza as the title:
They fuck you up, your mum and dad,
they may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
and add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
who half the time were soppy stern
and half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man,
it deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can
and don't have any kids yourself.
They fuck you up, your mum and dad,
they may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
and add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
who half the time were soppy stern
and half at one another's throats.
Man hands on misery to man,
it deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can
and don't have any kids yourself.
Comparing the Universal Oneness of All Life to Yo Mama since 2010.
![[Image: harmlesskitchen.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/yxR97P23/harmlesskitchen.png)
I was born with the gift of laughter and a sense the world is mad.
I was born with the gift of laughter and a sense the world is mad.
