Plonk My Bottom
 
Waldrapp Ibis

Waldrapp Ibis
Mike

Am I facing my midlife crisis?
I've just been likened to a waldrapp ibis!
What on earth could be more absurd
Than to link me with with this revolting bird?
Look at its face, that gormless expression
Surely I don't give that sort of impression.
Look at its beak, like a big drooping schnozz!
Am I a shadow of what I once was?

Once I was young, I was handsome and perky
But now it appears that I look like a turkey.
Once I was famed for my style, grace and culture,
Never compared to a mange-ridden vulture.
I'd like to make out that I just couldn't care less,
But if I'm accused of being wrinkled and hairless
I'm not going to take it. My feathers are ruffled
And my protestations on this won't be muffled.

And so I've decided, I'm changing my bird.
About this sad ibis I'll not hear a word.
No longer associate me with a fowl,
From now on I'll be a magnificent owl.
A sleek silent hunter with razor sharp sight,
Beau of the forest, king of the night.
And then I will get my deserved respect,
Not goaded, derided or even hen pecked.

Or maybe I'll be a majestical swan,
Noble and elegant, fabled in song.
Or even an eagle that soars upon high,
A deadly assassin that strikes from the sky.
In fact, ANY bird would be better than this,
That rank whore-son rodent, the waldrapp ibis.
A sparrow, a robin, I won't mind a bit,
Though perhaps not a duck or a thrush or a tit

 
Many thanks to Shitespace fan, Lisa, for requesting a poem about chairs. This one is for you... Chairs

Chairs
Mike

Kitchen, dining, swivel, reclining,
All these chairs I got 'em.
So when my legs are weary
I've a place to plonk my bottom.
A sumptuous leather armchair
And a chair that's filled with beans.
I even have a golden throne
That's fit for kings and queens.

Chairs of oak and pine and beech
Or even moulded plastic
Fill my rooms with seating space
It truly is fantastic.
Everywhere within my house
A chair stands on the floor,
But even with my plethora
Of chairs I still want more.

But when I come back home
With yet another purchased chair.
I find that I can't put the bleedin'
Bastard anywhere.
So now they're stacked so high
That if I want somewhere to sit
I've got to climb a stack of chairs
Which wobble quite a bit,

And when I've got up to the top
And sat down I am feeling
Quite unstable with my head
Pushed up against the ceiling.
But that's OK I'm happy,
And I haven't got a care.
Everything is wonderful
When I am in a chair.

So, if you'd like a cup of tea,
Please come round to my place.
Because I find I don't get many
Visitors these days.
I just don't understand it
'Cos I'm such a genial host,
And when it comes to seating,
Well, my house has got the most.

So, let me put the kettle on,
Sit down and put your feet up
I would be most delighted
If you and I could meet up.
Say what you like about me
I am not the sort to roam,
But most of all at least I've got
All my chairs at home

 
Ode To My Stapler

Ode To My Stapler
Mike

Once I went to Naples
And found some stunning staples.
'Twas oh so real, yet curiously ethereal,
But what was quite pathetic
Was their size that was in metric
And my stapler only takes them in imperial.

 
Printer Friendly Version

Printer Friendly Version
Mike

Hey printer! Gosh, you're really nice,
I love the way you print,
The sharpness of your images,
The colours, hues and tints.
The photos of my holiday
Are pleasing to my eye,
No crappy jagged edges
At twelve hundred dpi.

Yo printer! Wow, you're so superb!
You print with awesome clarity.
I say these words sincerely
And not just out of charity.
For Christmas Day I do not want
A pear tree full of partridges;
Instead I would prefer my stocking
Filled with colour cartridges.

Wow printer! Oo, you're truly great,
You make me feel on fire. Oh,
Printing stuff is way more fun
Than writing with my biro,
And when I am not with you
Then I've only gone a away for
Half an hour to buy you lots
More clean white sheets of A4.

 
A tribute to a fabulous vegetable Kelp

Kelp
Mike

Kelp, kelp, lovely kelp,
Give me lots of kelp.
Pile it high upon my plate,
It's something I can't help.
It gives me wind and stomach cramps
And it makes me shit like fuck
But still I can't help eating it
I'll scoff it 'til I chuck.

I eat kelp for breakfast,
For my lunch and tea and supper.
I'll even eat it between meals
When I sit down for a cuppa.
Well, when I say "sit down" I guess
I really mean sit up,
Because my chairs are in a pile
I'm high up when I sup.

I eat my kelp in spring and summer,
Autumn and in winter.
I print out hi-res scans of it
Upon my faithful printer.
I staple kelp upon my walls
So anyone can try it.
It's a handy way to eat it
Now that it's my staple diet.

 
 
2004
 



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