Lifeless Sheds
We were down to obsolete zero:
With the subatomic hero
'Is nothing now profane?' the message read;
'Do you really want to lose your head?'
In this cold,cruel Arctic bed?
It was half-past caring; the frostbite
formed frosty knife stalagmites,
'We're losing our perspective' quoth the line
Do you really want to go to bed?
On this old-style Arctic sled
In the sub-Mediterranean morning
Beneath our thermal awning
"It's time to eat a peacock", they all cried
Won't this modest muffin do instead?
Of this ice-cold Arctic bread
We abandoned our polar siesta
for our bird and soda bread,
which an arrogant investor
From the Leeds or from the Leicester
Would use to line his Arctic shed
It was a warm, tropical evening
With rising tides awash
Is this the eve of global warming?
Ill-omened comets' storming?
Will we be drowned by Arctic slosh?
We waded in our knickers,
Our knickers faded fast
And those who strove to trick us
We lashed tight to the mast
'til eighty days had passed.
And dined drunkenly on moldy artic hash
'Til all discretion fled
We stumbled to our Arctic beds,
"warm your linens" I whispered in glee,
And that was the last from me
| Contributors: | Roland, P, Stacy, TG, Bop, KD, Do, Ti. |
| Poem finished: | 30th March 1997. |