The Spoonbill Generator

Stale Toffees Know Nothing

His feet are larger than the sea [P]

In which he stands, marooned [Roland]

And yet, this irks him not, for he [TG]

Sings quieter than the deaf man's dream [P]

By Trappist Choirs crooned [Roland]

- A song to passing bream [P]

His brow is smoother than the sun [TG]

At which he gapes, perplexed [Roland]

And yet. whenas he turns to run [TG]

Bedazzled by his own distress [Roland]

He finds himself quite vexed [TG]

Despite his waywardness [Roland]

His mother knew he'd be the one [TG]

To tame her wrath, perhaps [Roland]

Yet when the penance all is done [TG]

His caustic mocking supervenes [Roland]

His ignorance of maps [P]

And illustrated scenes [Roland]

His time is short, he surely knows [P]

No remedy; he tries [Roland]

Yet harder to unpick his toes [TG]

As devilment ensues [Roland]

No time to zip his flies [TG]

Nor read The Evening News [Roland]

Too late! Too late! He tries to flee [TG]

His footsteps; he mistakes [Roland]

A doorway for the open sea [P]

A stairwell for the sky [Roland]

And hurriedly applies the brakes [P]

While wheeling seagulls cry [TG]


Contributors: P, Roland, TG
Poem finished: 21st November 1998