The Spoonbill Generator

Unwholesome Lodgings

The opera-house, from half-past one [Roland]

Until the daily bread, [Stacy]

Was thronged with those who longed to run [TG]

Behind the donkey's head [Roland]

The snooker-hall, from ten past six [The Agent Apsley]

'til roosters crow at dawn, [Stacy]

Was wholly choked with walking sticks [Roland]

At which we all would yawn [The Agent Apsley]

The abattoir at four o'clock [Simon]

Until our labours ceased [Roland]

Would single out a single man, [Stacy]

To massacre a beast. [Simon]

The herring-dock, from ten 'til three [TG]

Until the ships set sail, [Stacy]

Would stink of smelt and kedgeree [TG]

And pottage made from kale. [Simon]

The locksmith's hut, from eight 'till two, [Stacy]

Until all keys were cast [The Agent Apsley]

Would come alive with grinder's roar, [Stacy]

With peace quite dead at last. [|The Agent Apsley]

Contributors: Roland, Stacy, TG, The Agent Apsley, Simon, |The Agent Apsley.
Poem finished: 18th February 1998.