The Spoonbill Generator

Because Bane Barks

Outside the gates of Norwich [Roland]

A container-load of porridge [fester]

Was basking in the late October sun [Beefy]

When a passing helicopter [fester]

Blade slewed round and chopped 'er [Glider]

And she didn't really think that this was fun [fester]

The porridge, from Dumfries, [Glider]

Was a sullen sort of beast [fester]

As thick as two short Irish front-row forwards [Glider]

A consistency of flavour [Beefy]

Which you couldn't really savour [Fatty]

without pissing on the Savior [Zontar]

of South Norwood [Glider]

Meanwhile, up in Yarborough [Karen]

A lorry out of Scarborough [fester]

Drove quickly through the mealy English mud [Jeannie]

When, immediately behind him, [fester]

A hussy did bump and grind him [Terri Whitney]

Preventing him from chewing all the cud [loaf]

Whilst, somewhere west of Bristol, [fester]

A floozie wet her whistle [Maiko]

With scrumpy from the local cider farm [fester]

When all the grog was finished [Beefy]

Inhibitions were diminished [fester]

She struggled to stay calm [Tel]

Contributors: Roland, fester, Beefy, Glider, Fatty, Zontar, Karen, Jeannie, Terri Whitney, loaf, Maiko, Tel.
Poem finished: 24th September 2002.