Heaven preserve us from

the perverted back street curse

shouted indiscriminately loud 

and, to make matters worse,

without any sense 

of style, class or taste;

in a language expletive rich

such a dreadful waste.

I swear with a passion,

every single word select,

used for its meaning 

as well as its effect.

I can wax loquacious,

once i get under way,

no pause or hesitation 

on a good cursing day.

Rich, flowing curses,

a satisfactory swear,

always being mindful

 people may be there.

I much prefer 

to be on my own

I can really let rip

when I’m all alone

I chose my words

with forethought and care,

not a simple back street curser,

a curser of style and flair.

Sadly I defer

to only one other;

not a soul could best

my late departed brother.