Tempestuous Trousers of Thrace
Put yourself in your neighbour's shoes
(Assuming that they fit)
Walk about in the local zoos
And fidget just a bit
Well, here I am in Roland's shoes
Beside the lions' cage
My feet hurt bad, but the real news
Is writ in blue and beige:
His shoes are bad, but Roland's socks
Deserve the lion's share
Close up, they can destroy vast rocks
And pacify the bear
But what's he doing anyway
(Besides catching foot-rot)?
Reading Ernest Hemingway
Has made him hot to trot...
And so he fidgets, in his way,
Perspiring like a pig,
To find the magic overlay
That fits him like a wig
Better than a wig, in fact,
More like a second skin
That - for a second - has relaxed
To let the daylight in
Contributors: | Roland, TG, dkb, Apsley, Fatty, loaf, H, fester. |
Poem finished: | 16th December 2000. |