Dali's Uncle's Duckpond of Filth
In an old ball of string
Lives a strange and nasty... [i]thing[/i]
That tries to use some meta tags
But hits some unexpected snags
Upon the briny sea
In a strange smell of gloom
The nasty... [i]thing[/i] dreams of doom
And tries, in code, to write a page
Whilst soaking wet and full of rage
Upon the briny sea
In articulated
Trucks, and electrocuted
Ducks, one finds a sense of kin
But the nasty... [i]thing[/i] is friendless
Deep in his misery
In spite of all his pains
No one thinks to block his drains -
They're far too stinky to endure
Unless you're fond of old manure...
Upon the briny sea
In despair at tortured verse
Apsley books himself a hearse
For the body of his friend
Completely driven round the bend
Deep in his mystery
In an old cemetery
Not far from Coventry
Apsley's friend is laid to rest
His meta tags gleam on his chest
Upon the briny sea
Now, lest we forget
The cat and her vet
Are both getting wet
In the coracle tossed on the sea
I'm willing to bet
That the emerald waters
Will soon be the death
Of Harriet Walters
The rest is history
Contributors: | Apsley, Fatty, dkb, P, Beefy, Hamish, Curt!. |
Poem finished: | 6th June 2001. |