The Spoonbill Generator

They Vanish Soon Enough

Pigmies and penguins like to dance [Apsley]

Along the sharpest knife [Surlaw]

Whenas the sawbones starts to prance [Apsley]

And misery is rife [Surlaw]

Their perturbations are precise [Apsley]

Though just inside the law [Surlaw]

And leading to all kinds of vice [Apsley]

That make the limbs quite sore [P]

They promenade in full moonlight [Apsley]

From August to July [Surlaw]

With herrings and a spoon-fight [Apsley]

With axe and assegai [Surlaw]

Such festal celebration [Apsley]

Alarms the jaded wits [Surlaw]

Into a cerebration [Apsley]

o'phrenia and schiz [Surlaw]

For birds are faithful playmates [Apsley]

The claws, the beaks, the knees [Surlaw]

Are to all feelings like gates [Apsley]

Swung open to disease [Surlaw]

A vivid understanding [Apsley]

Defeats an open mind [Surlaw]

Whilst sailing in the Baltic [Apsley]

One's brain remains behind [Surlaw]

They whistle in the moonlight [Apsley]

They holler at the sun [Surlaw]

To provoke a mighty bun-fight [Apsley]

And vanquish everyone [Surlaw]

Except the seven seamen [Apsley]

Who surf the Severn Bore [Surlaw]

In search of pentstemon [Apsley]

And other acres raw [Surlaw]

For suffering is pancakes [Apsley]

Redemption, buttered toast [Surlaw]

Derision but the sacred host [Apsley]

The saviour who forsakes [Shipp]

The seraphim that stutters [Surlaw]

Does so in broken Latin [Apsley]

And all the trash he utters [Surlaw]

To me is just pure satin [Apsley]

Contributors: Apsley, Surlaw, P, Shipp.
Poem finished: 25th November 2000.