The Spoonbill Generator

Thumbscrews This Time

When your boots are filled with brandy [Roland]

And your spleen is full of ire [TG]

And there's something like a serpent in your smile [Roland]

Then you know the road to travel [TG]

May not circumvent your pyre [Roland]

For the serpent is a creature known for guile [TG]

As your blindfolds all unravel [Roland]

And the sunrise greets your gaze [TG]

And there's something like a heron on the wing [Roland]

You can empathise with Gandhi [TG]

As he roasted in the rays [Roland]

And wished he'd stayed at home in balmy Tring [P]

Tring! Home of the gaunt! [Roland]

Subtly suburbical haunt [P]

Last goal of the lame! [Roland]

Tring! Centre of hearts [P]

Death-bed of the Arts! [Roland]

...and more of the same [P]

When your rompers rot to powder [Roland]

And your nappy's past its best [P]

And there's something like a milk-tooth in your gum [Roland]

Then it's time to leave the nursery [P]

In a fast-decaying vest [Roland]

To sell your birthright for a fitting sum [P]

Contributors: Roland, TG, P.
Poem finished: 10th January 1999.