Webfooted Drive Through Town
And who should be driving? A clown
Wearing naught but an old dressing gown
He said, "Where ya headed, my friend?"
As through all the streets did he wend
"Um--Fifty-two-sixty Gravesend"
But instead he drove me round the bend
I thought I was losing my mind
He said, "You're not used to my kind"
I knew I was in quite a bind
In the skein of foul fate I was twined.
The view through the windows grew dark
When the driver decided to park
To him, it was clearly a lark
To strip off his clown clothes and bark
"What madness is this?" I cried out
I desperately looked all about
Yikes! The Twilight Zone, no doubt
"Please help!" did I hopefully shout
He threw back his head and guffawed
Then drew out a glittering sword
And I thought to myself, Dear God
This clown was an absolute sod!
Contributors: | N, F, Grayman, Beefy, Dassn't Say. |
Poem finished: | 2nd September 2003. |