Shaking Like Evaporating Milkmaids
Don't think me ungrateful, but
I think I shun your burial-hut
Although you were a faithful mutt
My violin won't string your gut
What can I say but--tsk, tut-tut
Chasing cars, you canine nut
You made me miss a crucial putt
So now it seems I'll miss the cut
They'll bar me from the members' hut
With me tossed out the door will shut
I'll sink into a doleful rut
And be the subject of scuttlebutt
My lower lip will start to jut
I'll be regarded as a slut
I'll have to eke out a life of smut
And when the Johns offend, rebut
Their churlish ways; then off I'll strut
My canine friend, I tell you what
I think I'll sit here on my butt
And send you off to Connecticut
Contributors: | Apsley, Roland, F, Kansas Sam, Grayman, Beefy, Padfoot, archaeopteryx, Karin. |
Poem finished: | 15th October 2003 by Anon.. |