Friday, 30 December 2011

But It's Christmas, Carol

On the first day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
Papers for divorce
And our front door key.

On the second day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
The latest vet's bill
And my Kylie cd.

On the third day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
A shit in a jiffy bag
Postage free.

On the fourth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me
A picture of her with a voodoo doll
And RIP.

On the fifth day of Christmas
This must stop, I said
She posted on Facebook
That it's sad, but I'm dead.

On the sixth day of Christmas
I asked what I'd done
I should have asked earlier
Oh I am a one.

On the seventh day of Christmas
She mentioned Jane
The girl in accounts
With the varicose vein.

On the eighth day of Christmas
I sat all confused
Jane's not the one
I shagged in the loos.

On the ninth day of Christmas
I denied all knowledge
And reminded her of Steve
Who she shagged in college.

On the twelfth day of Christmas
My true love said to me
"I've made a mistake
I'll be round at three".

Breakfast Epiphanies

Toasters aren't posters
That sit on your wall.
They're science, an appliance
All white
Quite cool.
They toast your bread
(Occasionally just right)
But often set boundaries
A little
You put it on five
And it comes up ten.
Or barely does anything
So you whack it down
But why do I persist?
I hear you utter.
Well there's nothing as nice
As a slice
And butter.

A Dwarf's Lament

The sky is too high, but I'm close to your thigh
Top shelves, not elves, bring a tear to my eye.
My dreams are lofty, you're a saucy devil.
I'd love to kiss you, but you're not at my level.