The Spoonbill Generator

False Memories of a Papal Failure

I blench to acknowledge my failure

Mediocrity shall be my middle name

Wherefore I shall wander,

To Australia

I belch to acknowledge my drinking,

Inebriation is my highest aim

Therefore I will squander

Half of Nanking

I bop to acknowledge my poetry,

Assonance was my surest fame

Therefore I shall plunder,

North Oswestry

I hope to acknowledge my life,

Sacrosanct was my purest game

Therefore I shall blunder

Into Neverland

I pause to acknowledge all life

Daguerrotype hobbling lame

Henceforth I shall wonder

Towards Kiev

I hop the potato train,

In search of eyes that do not see

Hence my meander

Through Bahrain

I plan the upcoming feast,

Each country to take a chair

to capture ideas flowing west to east

while sharing hope with tasty thoughts

Dare these thoughts be shared between

Halfwits on a greasy pole

Ahh, but the wings are stretched in flight

Much further-reaching than the mole

I think to improve my logic,

Intuition was my direst foe

Therfore my destination,

Is the station

I scratch to relieve my itching,

Psoriasis has skin aflame

Watch as I chunder

Down to Texas.

While bitching

I wince to think of this poem,

Alone in its bed of a night

Perhaps it holds its Teddy,

For life unready

Contributors: Loaf, KD, Stacy, Roland, Bop, P, Robyne, B Kknight, soft`rain, B Knight, TG, John.
Poem finished: 23rd February 1997.