The result of a two-hour train journey, written on the back of the ticket. It pretty much wrote itself, in that odd way that poems sometimes do.
Chop
the lettuce finely on the table
Put
in garlic till I say to stop
Feta
and cucumber
Pickled
onions without number
And
anchovies sprinkled generously on top.
Thought
that we could make a lot of money
“Let’s
see what our lotto playing brings!”
Hoped
that we would make it
But
the bailiff came to take it
Simply
turned up at our house to get our things.
Said
that they were waiting for the father
Said
that they were waiting for the son
Told
us that the mother
Was
as good as any other
But
the daughter didn’t generally come.
The king is in the palace eating partridge
The nobles are aware that something’s wrong
The peasants are uneasy
And the lords are slightly queasy
They all know a revolution won’t be long.
George
has come away without his toothbrush
And
he thinks he left the lights and oven on.
Now
he’s well and truly in it
Got
distracted for a minute
Now
his passport and his credit cards are gone.
Eight
of us can fit without a problem
Nine
is maybe starting to get tight
Ten
is very cosy
And
eleven’s less than rosy
Any
more than that will just end in a fight.
Listen
to the tranquil sound of silence
But
you never know how long the peace will last
Can
you hear the sound of drumming?
It’s
the rioters – they’re coming
Come
on let’s all go and lie low till they’ve passed.
Fran
is causing chaos in the kitchen
Dan
is doing business on the phone
Sammy’s
in the study
Doing
homework with his buddy
And
Louisa’s in the garden on her own.
This
year it has been customers a-go-go
What
we charge they’re glad enough to pay
The
economy is booming
But
there’s still a crisis looming
So
you might as well just spend it all today.
The
sun is gently shining on the mountains
And
there are rabbits hopping on the hill
The
garden’s full of roses
Whose
sweet perfume fills our noses
The
tornado’s over; now the air is still.
We
searched till we located the Big Dipper
Orion’s
Belt was hanging in the sky
The
Milky Way was sprinkled
Through
the black; it gently twinkled
And
we hardly even felt the night go by.
I’ve
gone and filled the coffee pot with cornflakes
I
scrub the carpets till the floors appear
I
went to get a hammer
And
I came back with a spanner
Now
I can’t remember what I’m doing here.
