Month: March 2014

You Said Real Men Don’t Wear Cardigans

You said real men don’t wear cardigans,
They don’t wear cardigans.
You said real men don’t wear cardigans,
They don’t wear cardigans.

You said that real men don’t wear cardigans.
Oh no.

You said you like to read The Guardian,
To read The Guardian.
You said you like to read The Guardian,
To read The Guardian.

You said that you like to read Guardian
And real men don’t wear cardigans.
Oh no.

You said you’ve never eaten quiche in Darlington,
Quiche in Darlington.
You said you’ve never eaten quiche in Darlington,
Quiche in Darlington.

You said that you’ve never eaten quiche in Darlington
And you like to read The Guardian
And real men don’t wear cardigans.
Oh no.

You said you want to rear rock ptarmigans,
To rear rock ptarmigans.
You said you want to rear rock ptarmigans,
To rear rock ptarmigans.

You said that you want to rear rock ptarmigans
And you’ve never eaten quiche in Darlington
And you like to read The Guardian
And real men don’t wear cardigans.
Oh no.

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Space Invader

You are nothing but a
space invader,
legroom raider,
armrest encroacher
comfort poacher.

Don’t you know you
steal my sleep,
rustle my sheep,
ransack my rest,
make me stressed?

You may find I accidentally
block your way,
knock your tray,
spill your gin,
kick your shin.

Why don’t you simply
disappear,
get outta here,
off and slope,
dis-interlope?

The War of the Roses

It was the Caramel Velvet
Who started it,
Getting a nudge
From the Country Fudge
Who began to scuffle
With the Chunky Truffle:
He had him
Over a Golden Barrel.

To the Turkish Delight,
All became night
As the box was plunged
Into Brazilian darkness.
A fire broke out
And the Coffee Escape,
Trying to avoid the scrape,
Was burnt to
An Orange Crisp.

It was a Praline Moment.

 

Suffering Fools Gladly

Unlike you,
I suffer fools gladly,
Perhaps even madly,
To the point of clipboarding
My way through town centres
Wherein I approach
Unsuspecting suspects
In order to assess the level
Of asininity
In the vicinity:

Question 1: Are you a fool?
(If Yes, proceed to suffer them gladly;
If No, slowly release back into the wild.
End survey).

So gladdened was I
By this suffering of fools,
I would invite my favourite fools back
So I could feel this
Stupid sadistic pleasure
More at my leisure.

I built a special enclosure
To house all the fools.
They never tried to escape
(They were rather foolish after all).
At the beginning of each April
I would throw them a party
And watch them play foolish pranks
Whilst eating raspberry fool.

Fools rock!
Fools are cool!

So when you say
That you don’t suffer fools gladly,
Well, MORE FOOL YOU.

Favourite Words

We spent the evening discussing our favourite words,
Exploring the entire lexicographical spectrum.
You had a penchant for pipette and plectrum,
A fondness for fondant, frippery and flimsy,
Plus other words of whimsy.
I spoke of spatchcocks, stirrups and surly,
Hosanna’d hubbub, hullabaloo, hurly-burly
Until you told me to shut up and leave
As the next morning you had to get up early
To feed your Uncle Cecil’s pigs.

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