The Spoonbill Generator

Barbecue Sores

Folded like a deck-chair [P]

In the upper bunk [Roland]

Sleep was fleeing from my fevered brow [Grayman]

Haunted by that lecture [Roland]

I felt that I was sunk [Grayman]

It was SUCH a heap of junk! [E Greejius]

Decked with folding paper [TG]

And a party hat [KT]

Racked by visions of a rabid sow [Roland]

Brandishing a taper [Elizabeth]

I felt myself go white [Roland]

My hair was burning bright! [Grayman]

Zonked-out with tequila [E Greejius]

It went down worm and all [Grayman]

Reminding me of what must have been a nasty row [Elizabeth]

Involving Tony Wheeler [E Greejius]

Before he had that fall [TG]

While practising the crawl [Roland]

Taken out and painted [TG]

Puce, vermilion, gold [Roland]

Carved into the likeness of a dhow [TG]

Not wholly unacquainted [Roland]

With the fishermen of old [KT]

Who dredge the streets for gold [The Agent Apsley]

Clapped-out; renovated [E Greejius]

At a bargain price [Roland]

Steering like the back end of a cow [TG]

And, while our fate was fêted [Roland]

It could have been quite nice [Grayman]

To swallow all the dice [Roland]

Sleeping like a baby [TG]

On the lower deck [Roland]

Avoids the taxing headache [The Agent Aspley]

Now, working out if maybe [TG]

Another chance, entrancing [Roland]

Though the light-effect is prancing [The Agent Apsley]

Dancing on the ceiling [TG]

Cheek to glowing cheek [Roland]

Sinuously entwined like serpents on a bough [Elizabeth]

A flagon of Darjeeling [Roland]

A dish of ham and leek [KT]

Will leave us lithe and sleek [TG]

Contributors: P, Roland, Grayman, E Greejius, TG, KT, Elizabeth, The Agent Apsley, The Agent Aspley.
Poem finished: 14th January 2000.