It never happened really except once maybe yesterday
The night was dark, and dire foreboding crackled in the air
As Hercules and Hereward stood freezing at the bar;
Haywood was outside, warming up the car
And putting little ribbons in his slimy hair.
Haywood brought the car 'round front and leaned into the horn
As if the front of his whole head had instantly been born;
And now confounding every moral fiber of his pod
He walked into an albatross and asked if it were God.
"Haywood" said the Albatross "Your in bad trouble"
And indeed he truly was, knee-deep in molten rubble;
Hereward shows up, says "Lets blow this place!"
While fingering the cracks in his orange carapace.
To Hereward said Hercules, 'I think that you're a pard!'
Then Haywood shows up covered in lard!
"To horse!" they cry, too hoarse for men to hear
...They ride off, looking for Hellspont and Hecuba
And so at last the poet's skill does finally depart
Another simple verse, another chili-dog fart
To those who long for simple rhymes, the message now is clear
You won't find them here!
And so, dear reader, don't despair
Hercules and Hereward, They don't care!
And as for hoary Hellespont
He just needs a change of font!
| Contributors: | TG, The Agent Apsley, nomi, best boy, Elizabeth, P. |
| Poem finished: | 2nd March 1999. |