The Spoonbill Generator

Gambits Under Glass

This time, then another, then - perhaps - once more [Apsley]

Twice around the laundromat, thrice across the floor [loaf]

Will be enough to keep at bay the pounds that feasts put on [Apsley]

Yet not enough to chase away the pounds mere bon-bons spawn [Kansas Sam]

With sugary draw [Apsley]

Christmas, hence to Easter, and thence a further week [loaf]

Should surely just be time enough to down the turkey's beak, [Apsley]

To down the grease and giblets too, the feathers and the spleen [loaf]

Though nothing known that mortals eat will take away the queen [Apsley]

In turban of teak [loaf]

Prophets, their disciples, and those who follow on [Apsley]

Impenetrable pilgrimages, saddled on a swan [loaf]

Such as would outrage Chaucer, stationed at the end, [Apsley]

Amid the mortal calling-cards on which we all depend [loaf]

For keeping us wan [Apsley]

Suppurating time-bombs, all kernel-cost and flame [loaf]

Is just their bent, but just to each give the name [Apsley]

For fear of caustic stipends, repaid a thousand times [loaf]

By listening to the ballads of Ms Lee Ann Rimes [Apsley]

Of Nashville fame [asdf]

Contributors: Apsley, loaf, Kansas Sam, asdf.
Poem finished: 4th November 2003 by Anon..