Thus Spake the Dingo Baker
A thimble, filled with tepid brine
Is your ideal, but not, though, mine;
In my requirements, piping hot
Ammonia might top the lot.
As to pewter, bronze and zinc,
You like them far too much, I think
The baser elements, for me,
Are just not quite my cup of tea
A thimble charged with astatine
From all my teeth takes off the sheen:
The molar bright, the canine dim
And all my fillings shed a shim.
As to sulphur, carbon, gold
No torch to them I rightly hold
| Contributors: | Roland, Apsley, dkb, loaf, Beefy, fester. |
| Poem finished: | 15th March 2002. |