Rick's Poems

CLIFF (from Demolition) Oh, Cliff Sometimes it must be difficult not to feel as if You really are a Cliff When fascists keep trying to push you over it Are they the lemmings?
Or are you Cliff? Or are you, Cliff?

NEIL (from Demolition) What are you doing, Neil? To make a meal, Neil? (it's surreal) From totalitarian vegetables. How much does it cost, Neil...?

HOUSE (from Demolition) House, house, house Oh, you are made of stone But you are not alone- -ly house!

POLLUTION (from Bomb) [First, an extreme close-up of Rick squeezing a spot/boil/pimple] Pollution All around Sometimes up And sometimes down But always around.
Pollution, are you coming to my town? Or am I coming to yours? We're on different buses, pollution But we're both using petrol.

FREE-FORM (from Flood) Marrow Meringue Boomerang Long, blue boomerang...

THE PEOPLE'S POEM (from Flood) What do you think you're doing, pig? Do you really give a fig, pig? And what's your favourite sort of gig, pig?
Barry Manilow Or the black and white minstrel show?

NEIL (from Sick) Oh Neil! Neil! Orange peel!

RICK'S TEEN ANGUISH POEM (from Bachelor Boys: The Young Ones Book) oh god, why am I so much more sensitive than everybody else ?
why do I feel things so much more acutely than them, and understand so much more.
I bet I'm the first person who's ever felt as rotten as this. could it be that I'm going to grow up to be a great poet and thinker, and all those other wankers
in my class are going to have to work in factories or go on the dole? yes, I think it could.

RICK'S TROTSKY POEM (from Bachelor Boys:The Young Ones Book) Today, I saw a dog, Yes, a dog.
Talking to a pig, Yes, a pig. They were on the pavement, Discussing Trotsky. Not brotsky or crotsky or drotsky or frotsky. But Trotsky.