Underneath The Forest Wall
Calypso, on her vaulting-horse
Recites the Nicene Creed in Norse
But who has time to hear?
Calypso, pious quite beyond the call
Tells parables in overalls
An onerous career
Collapso, the illegal clown
A jester of immense renown
In jails across the land
Presents in mystifying mimes
The half-regrets of former times
Concealed by sleight of hand
From all the convicts, row on row
Who watch, astonished, as the show
Unfolds behind a screen
Calypso, in a fiery light
Proclaims the Psalms each Friday night
Out where the gallows lean
Calypso on the radio
Broadcasting loud from Lazio
Enthralls the listening throng
Collapso, creeping up behind
With custard pies and lemon-rind
To serenade her song
With slapstick as her threnody
And now world-famous melody
Are enjoyed by us all
But admiration's not complete
Not all enjoy this pious treat
But shout out rude cat-calls
This is the way of fame's young dream
I wish to God I'd stayed in Weymns
And hidden in a trench
So, in conclusion, sturdy nymph
Chant Revelations to a lynx
But preferably in French
"Bonjour! Les chiens de la Guerre
Qui cherchent des choses en arrière
Vont arriver tout suite"
And - finally - Calypso's song,
With words like these she can't go wrong,
"Enough of this - let's eat!"
Contributors: | Roland, P, afternoon, Hamish, Grayman, Apsley, TG, Anon.. |
Poem finished: | 25th June 2000. |