Homily For Courtesans in Norwich cathedral
The cards were dealt, and in my hand
(Which was calloused and deeply tanned)
The bourbon glass was full, though chipped
I leaned back in my chair and quipped:
"Now who will lay the Queen of Hearts?"
Which made those cowboys laugh so hard
And slap their sides, and other parts,
Fall over, roll into the yard
Where scum & filth & fluff accrued
And evil mongrel dogs pursued
And still they laughed, and rolled in mirth
Until they nearly split their girth;
By accident, their guns they fired
So, with all haste, I then retired
Past broken chairs and bodies prone
And curs defending bits of bone,
But then, those not killed cried "Encore!
What bright repartee! Give us more!"
They pressed a drink into my hand
And made a signal to the band,
And pushed me up onto the stage
Despite my being under age
Insisting I should tell more jokes
Fit for a gang of loutish blokes
And so, with ready wit, I said:
(The thought had come into my head
Quite suddenly, and it was great)
"At seven, or perhaps at eight,
Some 'poke will hold the Knave of Clubs -
That fellow and the card he dubs
..." - by now, the audience was bored,
I saw them yawn who once had roared
Sleep stole upon them bit by bit
by bit by bit by bit by bit,
Until, at last, all were asleep
And dreamt of hungry fluffy sheep.
They belched, they let off wind, they snored
What I did next got me outlawed
For, whilst they slept, I stole their gold
- I may be only ten years old,
But drinkin' whisky isn't cheap -
And with a single sprightly leap
I vaulted into world beyond
But, sadly, failed to spot the pond
Or, sadder yet, the crocodile
-skin boots, whose wearer stood beside
A herd of angry buffalo
Of aspect wild and odour vile,
But the Lone Ranger and Tonto
Had arrived to read the metre,
Which was just outside the theatre
Founded once by Uncle Peter.
Indeed, the pair was just in time
To end this brilliant little rhyme
Contributors: | dkb, fester, Hamish, Apsley, Anon., Grayman, Madge, TG. |
Poem finished: | 23rd May 2000. |