Because Bane Barks
Outside the gates of Norwich
A container-load of porridge
Was basking in the late October sun
When a passing helicopter
Blade slewed round and chopped 'er
And she didn't really think that this was fun
The porridge, from Dumfries,
Was a sullen sort of beast
As thick as two short Irish front-row forwards
A consistency of flavour
Which you couldn't really savour
without pissing on the Savior
of South Norwood
Meanwhile, up in Yarborough
A lorry out of Scarborough
Drove quickly through the mealy English mud
When, immediately behind him,
A hussy did bump and grind him
Preventing him from chewing all the cud
Whilst, somewhere west of Bristol,
A floozie wet her whistle
With scrumpy from the local cider farm
When all the grog was finished
Inhibitions were diminished
She struggled to stay calm
| Contributors: | Roland, fester, Beefy, Glider, Fatty, Zontar, Karen, Jeannie, Terri Whitney, loaf, Maiko, Tel. |
| Poem finished: | 24th September 2002. |