Torment Jemima For Bothering
My neighbours, then, the nomads
Did think me mighty strange
When, on the twenty-first of June
I started baying at the moon
When it was not in range
They listened, then, in wonder
When next I scolded fleas
For having poured my tea too hot
Upon a rabid ocelot
That drank the deepest lees
I then proceeded to berate
The Proctor and his dog
For placing glass upon the wall
And carpeting my toilet stall
With thickest hide of hog
But none of this compares to when
My neighbors lost their 'u'
Before the thirty-first of May
They wrote their pet a roundelay
Which I stuffed up their flue
Their cat yowled in their chimney pipe
I stuffed my ears with wool
Thence Higgins' bawling guttersnipe
Whose sire was wont to utter tripe
Gave kith and cat a pull
The cat emerged begrimed with soot
The gypsies cried, "Bad luck!"
Poor puss, once white, was black as ink
And, skunk-like, raised a royal stink
The gypsies cried, "Oh fuck!"
| Contributors: | loaf, Nym, F, Chevalier, Helen Owly, Kevin Andrew Murphy, Apsley, Kansas Sam, Arnold the Sly Ape. |
| Poem finished: | 24th June 2006 by F. |