The Spoonbill Generator

Bathroom Psychodrama

Pale in her Siamese twin-set

She stroked the rat on her lap as it nuzzled her knees

She shattered the cameo inset

And then she took out her tongue as it started to freeze

Gaunt in her Klein cigarette pants,

She sat back and stared at the sky

She dreaded a shower of dead ants

Drank sack and ate leek and ham pie

Dazed in her ruined pagoda

She just toyed with her ratatouille

She drooled in her whiskey and soda

and decided she needed to pee.

Her decision, alas, was rejected

On grounds of decorum alone

A new decency code was elected

Supposedly raising the tone

She found a commodious answer

Balletic, and straight to the point

Yet, 'twas such a difficult scan, Sir

Her nose was put right out of joint.

She ran to a "nose cosmetitian",

Who worked in the dead of the night

For such was his burning ambition

to eliminate ugly nose blight.

And over the strains of 'Messiah'

Her voice, almost too soft to hear

Until she turned off the hair-drier,

Then silently rolled down a tear

She blotted it with Kleenex,

Her cheekbones, mascara-befouled

With a sinister mark, an obscene "X"

That showed she should be disembowelled

Disembowellment proved far too drastic,

The surgeon was ever too dear

He always used metal, not plastic,

And his patients died mostly from fear

Fear of the unknown outsider

Paranoia was never so far

The surgeon did not know she was a fighter

He barely left even a scar!

Her scarf hid the signs of his entry

His exit was likewise concealed

His methods were quite elementary

His patients were mostly well-healed.

and now the Miss Rosey New Nosey,

Sits, pale in her Siamese gown,

Beneath an enormous tea cosy

And waits for the moon to go down

Contributors: Roland, TG, P, Stacy, Nuralia Hamid, KD, Bop, Jane, Mikkel.
Poem finished: 15th April 1997.