We are the bald monkeys,

We are the bald monkeys,
From a planet in the milky way.
We rush around in our tin cans,
From place to place to place.
We can make machines of wondrous power,
And also vast heaps of trash.
We'll kill wild forests and elephants,
We'll turn our planet to ash.
We are such curious creatures,
We always want to know, 
So we cut others up to see how they work,
And when they're dead  we know.
We think that we are so intelligent,
But don't seem to realise,
That there is no planet b
For us to colonise.
So unless we treat earth and it's life,
With care and with respect,
The oceans will rise and erase us,
As a failed experiment.

If swift

If swift was I

I’d fly screaming,

Sleep on the wing

And fly dreaming.

When it got too cold

To Africa I’d fly

But I’m earthbound

Growing old

Whilst in summersky

Swifts fly

Until they die

Flying.

the Americas,

When I went to Bulgaria,

They thought that I came from America;

Maybe because of the blue denim jeans,

That I wore.

I had a pair since I was nine, or, maybe, before,

Because I wanted to be a cool boy,

To look like a cowboy,

As I galloped on my imaginary pony

Across the tarmac prairies,

Of a west London school playground.

I would put two fingers together

And make the ‘peow-peow’ noises,

Of a television gunslinger’s six-shooter

America had colonised me, culturally.

Then after the TV westerns, the music got me:

Although I preferred the cynics and the critics,

To the romantics.

Steely Dan, Little Feat and Frank Zappa

Blew my small island mind.

But now I know

That it was always just the.U.S.A.,

And mainly the Anglos;

But, there are many more Americas,

With many different dreams,

To those pouring out of

My stereo speakers and video screens.