Contempt For Moustaches
When nightfall arrives with a purplish glow
And all but the Captain are bunking below
The pelican speaks of its curious ways
That only the top ornithologists know
In legend, the pelican offered its breast
To suckle the hoodlums of old Budapest
And caused them to dance through the streets in a daze
The sailors, like dandies, now dream of that craze
Which only the bosun should seek to bestow
And now, on the sands of Arabian shores
The lands where the wars and the rumors of wars
Have whipped up a torrent and erected a maze,
The better to capture the global malaise
That swept round the world in a matter of days
When the truth had been fully disguised by the faux
At length, from the top of a vanishing tree
A glimpse of the distant horizon we see
And another one, closer, that baffles the wits
Of those who make mock of the prophet who sits
And chews his tobacco then oafishly spits
Out all the hard indigestible bits
(Autistically rocking himself to and fro)
Contributors: | Karin, Kansas Sam, Apsley, Beefy, loaf, P, Roland, Grayman, F. |
Poem finished: | 14th January 2004 by Anon.. |