TOM – You written a new poem then Dick?
DICK – That’s right snot face. It’s the canine testicles.
TOM – Is that what it’s called?
DICK – No, my dumb little friend, that means it’s the dog’s bollocks, which means it’s fucking brilliant. Thoughtful, insightful, and relevant to the world today.
TOM – Wow! You must be exhausted. Do you want brunch?
DICK – That’s very middle class of you but I'd go some Coco Pops in yak milk.
TOM – No yak milk. Sorry. Will lager be OK?
DICK – Perfect. Being a genius makes you really really hungry. And thirsty.
I’m the king of the shitters
a toilet V-I-P.
It all comes out
big and brown, won’t flush down,
I think it’s all the crap I eat.
Dick is a poemy master genius. Tom is a sock counting wanker. Together they live in a cartoon blunderland.