The Fifth Vatican Innuendo
Oh Wally! Won't you start your car,
Before I wring your throat
You've made us late to greet the Tsar
And impregnate his goat
This time, you've really gone too far
You stercoraceous stoat.
So get the handle from the shed,
And grease the waiting hole
Remember what the monkey said
To greet the smiling Pole:
"Not all the boors of Berkhamsted
Shall make me feel quite whole"
The tumbril shuddered; down the street
Out came the crass midwife
Who followed it on hopeful feet
With wildly-brandished knife
In hope of finding subject meet
For trouble and for strife
Pantechnicons of varied hues
All jack-knifed in its wake
The reds clashed wildly with the blues
The haddock with the hake
And yet, with gin and suchlike booze
Our thoughts were quite opaque
Meanwhile the Tsar was waxing wild -
The goat had gone astray
And stumbled past a foundling child
In search of new-mown hay
So Wally, be not meek or mild
On impregnation day
(Of new-mown hay, one must opine
Beyond all shred of doubt
That, were it not just quite divine,
When mixed with Sauerkraut
Its potencies - so genuine! -
Would poleaxe any lout).
The caravan the palace neared
Passing much zucchini
The sight was what the Tsar had feared
He swerved his Lamborghini
The goat then shook its hellish beard
In homage to Fellini
The tumbril lost a nether wheel
And those pursuing bayed
Their manner, not at all genteel
Or as the butler prayed,
For half-a-hundredweight of steel
The butler was betrayed
The pack descended, scenting blood,
Of cormorant or kite
They dragged the Tsar into the mud
And slaked his appetite
For drinking from the nether flood
To sluice the nether bite
And so the Revolution had
The usual result
The priesthood, being truly mad
And quite beyond insult,
Enrolled the angels, leather-clad
To commence their assault
Assault on what?, you fondly ask,
In Herculean mode
But I, who have assumed this task,
And authorised this ode
Will merely in the sunshine bask,
Spreadeagled in the road
Moral insight:
In Berkhamsted, if not in Tring
(And environs thereof),
To know the Idylls of the King
From those of Molotov
Requires the use of lengths of string
At which let no man scoff
Contributors: | Rfwoolf, olaf, Kansas Sam, Chevalier, Apsley, asdf, Roland, loaf. |
Poem finished: | 22nd January 2007 by Apsley. |