The Word Cloud

I feel it’s only right, It’s only fuckin fair to write a poem for my favourite poet extraordinaire A man of many words Fired in quick succession Sharp, loud and witty this guy can teach us a lesson Coming from Salford someone near the Quays brought up on drug abuse Heroin’s not a disease Trademark drainpipe jeans Fitted black suit jacket Big hair and sunglasses Man, this guy’s a racket I watch him in amazement Can’t believe he’s still alive Fuckin this and Fuckin twat His wise words will surely survive Around in the days of Punk He was older than a few Not aged a day since though Back then I thought he was 102 John Cooper Clarkes a star I’ve put him on a plateau No one else belongs up there He really is my fuckin hero