Thinking Allowed
I think that I shall never see
A possum lively as a flea
For though I scry with strong intent
My mind on hell is not so bent
I guess that I shall never hear
A paean sung to gonorrhoea
Applaud the clap? A circle game!
As viscious as the bite of fame
I doubt that I shall ever smell
The groin of archer William Tell
For when time's arrow flies astray
It's clear we have no place to stay
I fear that I shall never touch
The surface of a rabbit hutch
Or even its inhabitants'
(Based on all the evidence)
I know that I shall never feel
The wind blow through a ferris wheel
And even my befuddled brain
Can hardly bear the extra strain
Of sieving haggis from the rain
I'm told that I shall never peer
From a balloon across the Tyne and Weir
For when I let the gas escape
I panic with the sellotape
I fancy I shall never know
What mushrooms in the forest grow
Unless, with microscope and spoon
I scry them 'neath the lambent moon
I wonder if I'll ever sense
My worth as more than 40 pence
And surely I will sell my soul
To fall down the white rabbit's hole
I've pondered all these matters
And conversed with idle chatters
And concluded that one thing is certain sure
You can't bite the bullet with your bottom jaw!
Contributors: | Grayman, Roland, P, The Agent Apsley, Loaf, Rich T. Bikkies, Rich T Bikkies, Elizabeth, TG, KT, (trad), El Tel. |
Poem finished: | 14th December 1999. |