To Hypnotise Badgers Bereft Of Discretion
Across the hills a cry rang out:
"Take care! Watch out! Beware its snout -
Triumphant!". Yet to those of us
Immune to its venom, the fuss
Promoted merely mirth
It stalked the hills; those bit would yell
And retch, so vile its putrid smell
The bite did not hurt, but the stench
Was toxic both to swain and wench
Who fell upon the earth
Yet we, unharmed among those hills
'Midst bodies (just stinky - not killed)
Could not but laugh to see such fools
Unconscious, in disgusting pools
And cry, "What is it worth ...
"To see these fools upon the fell -
You know the ones, I send them gel -
They set such styles for their hair
As supposing any care
Whose spawn they were at birth"
Contributors: | Roland, Hamish, fester, Grayman, Apsley, P. |
Poem finished: | 13th June 2000. |