Poems from Clare Robertson

    Extortion culture unites the terds Soaking up all the wild rumours they've heard Down in South Melbourne we think success Is shafting...
    Paul Cridge, you're a crock of shit! You're a sleazy poisonous thug! Why don't you give you're mouth a go? And in the other hole, put a...
      The world is full of questions, they fill me with fear How come some romances only last for a year Is there a new gauge? Is it...
I know his son's intelligent And the daughter prefers the mother It's not surprising really After he ran off to Ireland with her brother...