Imbibe This Page
I don't drinke vodka, only ginne -
And Master Juniper, my twin
When cocktail hour set in
Would reason:
I nary finish; just beginne
And crastination, for my sin
Leaves me without a win
This season.
I have no kith; my only kinne
Repose beneath this ancient skin
Like a golden hat pin
In Neasden!
I heard of yang; seen the yinne
And like a fish, I've grown a fin
In my old steel fish-tin
It's freezin'.
I shave my lip; but on my chinne
A tuft of hair, graft from my shin
Shall underline my grin
- Just teasin'
Contributors: | Apsley, Roland, asdf, Ethetran, Beefy, jm, P, F. |
Poem finished: | 12th January 2004 by Anon.. |