The Spoonbill Generator

Peeping Tomcat

To drill through the crust of The Hague [Surlaw]

And fill the new hole with a plague [Shipp]

Appeals to the sort [Surlaw]

Who regard as a sport [Shipp]

All actions whose purpose is vague [Surlaw]

But although they are taken to task [Shipp]

It doesn't seem proper to ask [Surlaw]

The Queen of the South [Apsley]

To pour in my mouth [Surlaw]

A gallon of phlegm from a flask [Apsley]

And thus, when you query my ways [Surlaw]

And find them as boorish as plays, [Apsley]

My only reply [Surlaw]

Is to spit in your eye, [Apsley]

And wrap your proboscis in baize [Surlaw]

If you dare, then, to stand to salute [Apsley]

In front of the rawest recruit [Surlaw]

In this whole camp, [Apsley]

Be rid of the scamp [Surlaw]

And order the Serjeant to shoot [Apsley]

Contributors: Surlaw, Shipp, Apsley.
Poem finished: 6th November 2002.