"Stolen Sonnet Hacked Poem"

The morning DJ's gag. O tawdry quip
The Smile I want to stamp into the ground
That only blloms during moonlit hours,
And though not exactly privacy
To view the universe expanding outwards
I'll never give the bastards the pleasure.
You don't know London until you've walked it,
I learned to dream on Bank Holiday Mondays,
I'll speak those words next time I urinate,
Another few inches of boisterous growth
How quickly it can change, from gazing towards
a thick film of regrets, pyschic and scum
Until the ticking bomb pans into view.
And invite me to unburden my thoughts
It could be Croydon on a Friday night,
the memories sharpen, as the vision dims.
And so from the blood bath of blind chance
We down the lot in one. Let's get rat-arsed
It's time to put your childish things away
Despite all the cautionary tales
True creative sparks: re-born in ink
They'll pledge to ride me all the way. Til death.
Seduced by human kindness and caffeine.
The schmuck on stage is a target. Nothing more.
No moral pang can halt the bullet's path;
While tortured neighbours bashed the semi's walls.
Weighed down with paperbacks and Guinness paunch,
This moment can happen to anyone:
As I run dry, the Thames runs out to sea
I cross the line to slow hand claps. Job done.

Dulwich Poet 4th April 2014.

(Not a single word of this is mine. I borrowed 'Sonnet Hack' by Niall O'Sullivan (published in 2010) a booklet where he wrote a sonnet a day for a month in september 2010. I have stolen a line from each one to make up this thirty verse poem, just to see what it would come out like. I had no idea which lines I would pick until I flicked through the book, scan reading to copy them, and the poem has no hidden meaning.)