A poem written in one of my more cynical (do I mean realistic) frame of mind.
I stand opposed to all privilege,
To the bitter end.
Yet, if it be mine own
I do, as a dog with a bone
My privilege defend,
Gainst foe and friend
A young man named Snell
Owns an extremely dirty hotel.
When I said “you must clean!”,
He replied, “have you not seen,
The low prices in this hotel!”.
On looking in my bin
I found Mr Jeremy Corbyn,
Who said, “I am planning for power,
In this great ivory tower”.
I said, “you’re hiding in my bin!”.
Awaking as the clock struck midnight
I found to my great delight,
The late author, Mr Charles Dickens
With a large flock of toy chickens,
And my Mistress who calls herself White!
On opening my large old wardrobe
And seeing a young lady’s earlobe,
I said, “have you seen my shirt?”,
At which she called me a flirt,
And said, “please put on your robe!”.
When an extremely fat man named William Paul
Fell with great force against my garden wall,
And I heard the wall crack
As he fell on his back,
I said, “Paul, shall pay for my wall!”.
When a young lady named Bess
Went to visit Loch Ness,
She saw no monster great,
But met a girl called Kate,
Who said she knew Miss Ness!
In this wood,
In parts overgrown
I walked alone,
Yet I had a myriad tree
For company.
Then the rain came
And I was free,
For I am part
Of the wood’s heart
Which lives in me.
When a young lady named Claire
Asked, “shall we have a sordid affair?”,
And I said, “just us 2?”,
She replied, “do you like Miss Lou?”,
And this poem, it stops right there …
When a young lady of Greece
Said, “when will your writing cease?”,
I replied, with a grin,
“Are you in to hot sin?”,
And then she called the police!
K Morris - Poet 