From Stoke ‘zine Love and Molotov Cocktails, issue 5, Autunm, 1983.
I Was A Teenage Teenager
Skeletons burst through gravestones
Dressed in Kickers and personal headphones
Decomposing rows of slowly mouldering Noel Edmonds clones
Look at the camera – smile and pose,
Zombies in Crombies with frontal lobotomies
And – Ey up! – Here comes a punk rock band
Banging out a second hand version of a third rate
Substandard bastardised hand me down,
Before packs of pissed up Spit the Dog lookalikes
Who mumble into switched off microphones
Sid Lives, then topple into pools of yesterday’s piss
The lice infested mohican crested head of the punk’s dead body
Is carefully avoided by a prancing collection of Mannequins & Ballroom queens
All of them dressed as poodles and druids
Cooly sipping embalming fluid,
And – Oh I say – this means trouble!
Someone’s spilt slime on Simon’s ruffles!
“You rotting bastard! It took him a week to make that shroud”,
Says Timothy Strange on Page 15 of this month’s FACE
“I only get 2p a week
AND I CAN afford to look lean and sleek”
It’s all the senapods he eats.
‘Wow that’s really freaky’
Says Robert Geldof’s mother
On Channel 4’s over long and boring
Sideways glance at youth culture
– With the SDP’s policy on dance, drink, drugs and clothes
Sit on the fence and pose
The rich get fat & the joke gets older
Skinny kids and grinning vultures
1980’s Youth Culture.