Finnegan's Ascending Nostril
Alphabetic poetry often can
Blur the very wits of man
Curdle, e'en his very marrow
Damn his veins so narrow!
E'en hist'ry ,considered studiously
Forgets science quite ludicrously
Gross turpitude, and other sins
Hide the prizes no man wins
Catatonic prisoners never run
Until the mystic sequence is undone
And that, my friends was quite some fun
For King Blackadder's no. 1
One, duo ,trinity, quadumvirate
(Or was it something that I ate?)
I admire the head of state
Just as he admires my pate
Kicking up the undergrowth
Like a seventeen-toed sloth
Or a piece of sequined filth
Picked without an "m" or "n" -
Quite forgotten by all men -
Making, though a late return
New alphabets with lots of "O"s
Running once again to plan
Seeing happy cans of Spam
Trotting down the road with glee
Under Mr Mukherjee
Very, very hard to catch
When I run I'm hard to match
Xenophobia makes me fleet
(You should see my spiky feet!)
Zebras scarcely can compete.
Contributors: | fester, Roland, Apsley, P, Fatty, -, Winston1984, Beefy, TG, Hamish, Curt!, dkb. |
Poem finished: | 6th January 2001. |