Pointless Noses
A pound of cheese is just the stuff
To pay for mousy bits of fluff
That you can buy down at the market
Or hoover up from off the carpet
For just how useful fluff can be
Is plainly there for all to see
In analogue and digital
Throughout the lobes occipital
(Wherever they may rightly be)
And the other bits of brain
(If Descartes' right, my very me?)
That make me come in from the rain
When I don't want to leave the garden
For if I do my heart will harden
And I will become far too tough
To strike a pose or wear a ruff
Or play with little balls of fluff
That can be purchased soon enough.
A ton of chickens is just right
To carry in a micro-light
A chicken dropped from such a height
Would discommode many a wight
An ounce of lard will do just fine
Shall we go to yours or mine?
Contributors: | Apsley, Hamish, Fatty, Beefy, e, P. |
Poem finished: | 20th June 2001. |