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...