Jesus With Underdone Omelette
In this unspeakable foreboding year, our doom
Is but gloom
But who are we, in the face of destiny, to quail?
Or hide in our room?
Nicole Pallotta thats who!
If fate brings us to a sordid end, can we complain?
It's just pain
When Atropus cuts the thread of life, can we then rail?
Or just boot the pail?
"Nicole!" he gasps; "Papa!" she wails...
No. "In the long run ..." -- who can gainsay Keynes?
With his beans...
Contributors: | E Greejius, Apsley, TG, Grayman, Anon., Hamish. |
Poem finished: | 1st June 2000. |