The Spoonbill Generator

Seven Seasons In Red

Was it for this that I sold all my children? [P]

Sent them all down to the charity shop? [Roland]

Packed their belongings in one battered briefcase [TG]

And threw it away when their screams wouldn't stop [Roland]

What if the daughter I left on the platform [TG]

Had only been valued at half the same price [Roland]

Wouldn't her mother have thrown in a tractor? [TG]

Even a little one would have been nice [Roland]

What is the point of disposing of offspring [TG]

The pittance you get wouldn't buy a new hat! [P]

Yet I must walk out in this desolate trilby [Roland]

Shod in old brogues, with one solit'ry spat [TG]

What if the orphans I lightly discarded [Roland]

Grow up to hound me and snap at my heels? [TG]

When I lie gasping with limbs all dismembered [Anon.]

Crushed and forlorn 'neath their uncaring wheels [TG]

Envoi: [Roland]

Raffling children is all very well [TG]

But in today's market I urge you to sell. [Roland]


Contributors: P, Roland, TG, Anon.
Poem finished: 21st May 2004 by TG