Ant the Rant - Couch Potato

From Ant the Rant -  bringing poetical satire to the satellite masses, misfits, pissed modernists and the i-groan generation.
Are you a Couch Potato? Are you becoming one? Or do you know one? Ant the Rant gets on the case with his poem 'Couch Potato'.
 He’s a couch potato, always mashed
On the sofa, always crashed
Covered in crisps and cigarette ash
Wondering where his life has flashed
Growing fatter, sinking fast
He’s a couch potato, lightly sauteed
On the settee, red and roasted
Sweaty pink and always toasted
A drunken whale, beached and bloated
A log, that in life’s sewer has floated
He’s a couch potato, steamed and fried
On his back and catching flies
From the takeaways rotting by his side
Smells like something there has died
Decomposed, then putrified
He’s a couch potato, soiled unwashed
In his underpants and socks
Stuck to the cushions and glued to the box
Counting friends that he has lost
Like he counts the fleas that he has squashed
He’s a couch potato on a bed of crunchy bits
With a face that sunk a million chips
Smearing grease on his vinegary prick
That’s the only way he gets his kicks
That’s where he’s taught the rats to lick
He’s a couch potato, not seen for weeks
Neighbours thought the drains had leaked
So they came round to take a peek
Thought that he was just asleep
Til they saw the insects filling his bloated cheeks
Couch potato, gone to a sofa in the sky
Buried just the way he died
A remote in his hand, a beer by his side
A fast food, slow death suicide
Life for him, was just one big, fat, lie.
Check his site: http://anttherant.com 
Buy his  first collection of poems here 
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