Monday, 10 October 2011

Apocalypton Ice Tea Or The Story of How You Cut Me

To hear an audio version of this poem head to

Where no men fear to tread sleep the Laser-Yaks,
Their hulking masses pitted against the earth's crust battle of wills.
Laser-Yaks are humongous.

Where the Menstrual Rivers run red breed the Laser-Yaks,
Their complicated mating rituals cause cities to fall & Kings to weep.
Laser-Yaks are lotharios.

Where the Lovejoy memorabilia lies wait the Laser-Yaks,
Their vacuous flanks & tangled manes await the coming conflict.
Laser-Yaks are shit scary.

Since the far off days since man first heard a scratchy noise,
The Laser-Yaks waited patiently. Ready to fight. Poised.
Their seething shapes have never had desire to be seen,
In misty clods of air and smoke their kind has always been.
They live within vibrations, they manifest in waves,
They move like ripples on a lake or crotchets on a stave.
With silent maws and molar teeth they graze upon our tales,
Killer laser beams augment, each time that we're regaled.

When a village burns and children lay dead it's the Laser-Yaks,
Their movement alone causes hearts to fail & bones to dissolve to sand.
Laser-Yaks are seismic.

When the sea explodes and tsunamis wreck a continent it's the Laser-Yaks,
Their murderous herds would shatter the bones of the grim reaper himself.
Laser-Yaks are tectonic.

When you see shadows in the distance of a foul mountain range it's the Laser-Yaks,
Their very senses trained upon just you, waiting for their moment to cease existence.
Laser-Yaks are shit scary.

Big, shaggy yaks with lasers for their eyes,
If the ground is shaking, kiss your loved ones all goodbye.
The creatures make no sound despite their massive size,
Feel your bones dissolve to dust, kiss your baby as she dies.

Huge, snorting yaks with their killer death-ray eyes,
Watch as London disappears whilst their bodies block the sky.
The beasts destroy all living things that make the slightest cries,
For though they're made of waves and sound it's noise that they despise!

Awesome, deadly yaks with their eyes of reddish beams,
Quick! They're lumbering toward you and they're burning through your dreams,
The fiends can't stand the din we make, our songs, our words, our screams,
Our speakers, drums and music are our only hope it seems.

So with music we have hope, we can quash their optic ray
We can drum, scratch, sing & dance, we can beat them as we play.
Listen well young children for they must be kept at bay,
It's music that will save us and let us live another day.

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