Stealth For Newfound Cheeses
Broad pretensions, on the board-walk,
Cause the milling throng to gape
And to moderate their bored talk
Ever seeking an escape
Beyond the realms of tuile and satin
Their pompous scraps of high school latin
Only manage to annoy
The hoi-polloi
And one unfortunate little boy
Simple sisters, in the sunlight
Shouted, "Pull!", and aimed for clay
Out to calibrate their sons' sight
Ready for St Saviour's Day
Troubled tomboys taste disaster
In the cocktails in their hand
Never knowing who's the master
Who's the drummer in the band
Before the fall of night they seek
To prey upon the lame and meek
Hiding underneath the stairs
Interrupted, in their chairs
Boorish brothers, in the fireplace
Are not very flammable
Trying to achieve a higher place
With dramatics damnable
Good intentions, Hell's own causeway,
I see you traipsing down it
Engaging in a spot of horseplay
Dunking my cat. Don't drown it!
Beneath the seething molten sky
A ferrous danger draws your eye
A glint of steel, a sense of dread
Let us hide beneath a bed
Nerdy nephews, in the bedroom
Eager for a first romance
Search on e-bay for more head room
End up buying underpants
| Contributors: | Apsley, Beefy, Keith, jm, (trad), asdf, Stacy, F, TG, Kansas Sam, will_h. |
| Poem finished: | 15th January 2005 by F. |