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It is a tree-smoothie-meltdown in Chicken Town. And you are not invited. It is time to get out.

1.I leave you in Fred.
2. In peace you mean.
1. No, in Fred, in Swedish and with a capital F. Its ok, he is a big guy, you will manage.
2. Hold your horses man, it is I who rule the world, I don't agree with this solution, u hear me.
1. Say that again, its you who do what?
2. When no one is watching, it is I who rule the world.
They are all like, ”Hey! Who’s that standing in the dustbin!”
I will tell you who is standing in the dustbin.
Its I who is standing in the dustbin.
From the trashcan its I who rule the world.
From my fortress I create everything.
I create the colors that I'm wearing.
I control the colors that you're wearing.
All I hear is bla bla bla.
I loop the sound,
I play it and rewind it.
That is how it goes, u understand?
A papers basket is always a papers basket. Right? So don't u worry about me now, I will manage just fine.

1.I kissed her.

Chapter three in Chicken Town

scene 3. don't wake me I'm planning on sleeping in. end quotation.

Ping-pong-town

and then always these fucking lasagnas smelling, pouring with sugar and old grease and three minutes ago I stared into a rats sliced testicles trying to remain sane and focus focus focus because it all comes down to this and outside time passes by and becomes good old ones while the fat lady behind the counter throws my lunch at me and a chinese lady runs like an animal to pick up the ping-pong balls her four-year-old son smashes all over the room how I adore this woman

Evidently Smorgossboard Town

My life is Hollywood. scene 1 take 1. I wake up, realize that my dick is hard, fuck, now I wont be able to take a piss in twenty minutes. fuck it, I pee all over the place, why give a damn. I couldn't keep this one in, I really couldn't.
I take a good look in the mirror, I look like hell. like an old dog, dog shit, like old dog shit. couldn't keep that in either. for breakfast I eat a carrot, drink a glass of whiskey/milk and some pellets. I throw up. little blood in it, and some brown chunks, probably not the carrot, those pieces usually come out pink, that is good.
I walk down the stairs that leads to the street. my street. its sunny outside. I don't know what to do today or when today is. I step out, I need a cig.
after lighting my cig and taking a deep breath I start walking, don't know where or what time it is but the sun is still up, it shines on the street, I fucking hate the sun sometimes, but any how, the sun tells a story and that story tells me it must be before six o'clock.
later. after walking for bout half n hour in an unknown direction I meet up with two people outside a house. we talk.

1- You are so smart. What did you do to be so smart?
2- what do you mean, I did not do anything.
1- yes but tell me, tell me now. what did you do?
2- once upon a time I was a ballerina dancer.
1- yes? once upon a time I was you.
2- me? are you sure?
1- yes.
silence.
3- I wonder what he is building in there?
1- who me?
2- you did not say that.
1- yeahg, I just did!
2- copycat.
3- shut up and make me soup.
1- its obvious that he’s hiding something.
2- aren't we all. maybe it's a zoo.
3- I'm going home.

scene 2. I sleep.

Evidently Chicken Town

the fucking cops are fucking keen
to fucking keep it fucking clean
the fucking chief's a fucking swine
who fucking draws a fucking line
at fucking fun and fucking games
the fucking kids he fucking blames
are nowehere to be fucking found
anywhere in chicken town

the fucking scene is fucking sad
the fucking news is fucking bad
the fucking weed is fucking turf
the fucking speed is fucking surf
the fucking folks are fucking daft
don't make me fucking laugh
it fucking hurts to look around
everywhere in chicken town

the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you're fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town

the fucking view is fucking vile
for fucking miles and fucking miles
the fucking babies fucking cry
the fucking flowers fucking die
the fucking food is fucking muck
the fucking drains are fucking fucked
the colour scheme is fucking brown
everywhere in chicken town

the fucking pubs are fucking dull
the fucking clubs are fucking full
of fucking girls and fucking guys
with fucking murder in their eyes
a fucking bloke is fucking stabbed
waiting for a fucking cab
you fucking stay at fucking home
the fucking neighbors fucking moan
keep the fucking racket down
this is fucking chicken town

the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you're fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town

the fucking pies are fucking old
the fucking chips are fucking cold
the fucking beer is fucking flat
the fucking flats have fucking rats
the fucking clocks are fucking wrong
the fucking days are fucking long
it fucking gets you fucking down
evidently chicken town

© JOHN COOPER CLARKE