At First Simply Guessing
There was a young lady fron Dar-es-Salaam
Nobody guessed she would come to much harm
So why did they press her to run with the pack?
How did she come to get shot in the back?
What piece of lore did she fatally lack?
Why had she only one arm?
Lost on the road between Ghana and Ghent
Lacking the money to pay for the rent
So why did they press her to join the Marines?
How would it end if she hadn't the means?
What could account for the villainous scenes
Why was her other arm bent?
Deep in the caves between Kent and Cadiz
Lies hidden a bottle of poisonous fiz
So what made her hanker to sample this brew?
How could she tell if the label read true?
Was there some secret that only she knew?
What made her stop for a zizz?
Sunk in a silo on Salisbury Plain
Whistling a tune through a gap in the hedge
Why did she lie there all night in the rain?
Who could she turn to? Who'd hear her complain?
Only Staff-Officers soft in the brain
Why did she cling to the ledge?
Let us not bother with answers. Our task
Is surely to strip off her elegant mask
Why do we trouble to flesh out the rest
Why carry on when the cast is depressed?
Why wield the dactyl, the lame anapaest
We know what it is we must ask
Why does eleven, divided by three
Never get answered in time for high tea?
Where's the remainder at twenty past five
Why does such partial vugarity thrive?
How can we tell that our minds are alive ...
Who, since you ask it, are we?
|TG, Roland, P.
|20th July 1998.