The Spoonbill Generator

Diagnostic Encomium

Oh! How I hate his leaking bladder!

How his sodden hammock stinks!

It's hard to communicate the matter,

Perhaps a subject better left to shrinks!

And how I hate his weary patter

How his verbal oozings pall!

It's awfully worse than pancake batter,

A wonder that he even has the gall!

How I loath the way he looks,

His pointless nosebleeds: what's the point

They only spatter up the joint!

And try to make their bloddy point.

Do you detest his loathsome bulk?

No! That's the feature I adore!

It charms my soul from kingdom come,

To linger by his reeking slum

To wallow in this hole - mindless, sightless

To gaze upon the sky - wingless, flightless

To eat a sodden pie - pointless, tasteless

To beat a broken drum

Contributors: Stacy, Roland, Stacy Alexander, Nancee, TG, A girl named Sue, Lucretia, Anon..
Poem finished: 31st January 1997.