A Railway Canal
I cycled to the station with fury on my mind
And punched a fat commuter in the eye;
He looked at me (with the uninjured eye) uncertainly
The other watered hurtingly
I did not relent
Till fury was spent
Upon all who embraced the secret name of God
(Which I won't record as it's secret.)
I left the fat commuter with a guinea for his pains
And pondered then the music of the spheres
I concluded it (the music) was a load of balls
Preferring Händel's Water Music
I would not retire
Until I had sired
Uncountable progeny, and two pygmy goats
(Who are small enough to be beneath notice)
I joined the fish and chip shop queue in search of deep-fried eels
And picked the finest specimen in sight
That sported on its back the letters JAH (or so I thought)
Perhaps it was a watermark.
I did not make out
Until I used grout
Made by Bul, the fabricator of universal things
(Whose products are ubiquitous, of course)
Then I realized the error of my ways, and despaired
To think how many years I'd been misled
The tracks I should have followed were not those laid for trains!
So much water had gone under the bridge
I'd missed all the signs
'Midst thickets and vines
My mistress with a monster was in love
(Whose cave I pass by every morning)
Contributors: | Apsley, dkb, Beefy, TG, fester, KD. |
Poem finished: | 6th September 2001. |