Bad Tempered Alf Poem by Kevin Hulme

Bad Tempered Alf is a man renowned, for being angry with anything from the sky to the ground. He shouts at the birds and screams at the bees, Chastises the cat that covered in fleas. The boys from the street retrieving their ball, Take flight at the yells that erupt from the hall. And the people next door with their music to loud, His kicks at the wall would make "Bedlam " feel proud. Oh poor Miss Tibbs who "Hello'ed" on the Bus, Was shocked by a tongue that would make Liam Gallagher Blush. For the Band from "The Sally " in tune on the street, Now duck rotten fruit and a hasty retreat. When asking Old Alf to turn it all down, it's like telling Mike Tyson he's a bit of a clown. He stamps and he yells and he shouts in your face, And tells you to "Go Forth" in no style and less grace. Now; poor Old Alf is laid down in his grave, after clutching his heart after his very Last Rave, And Heaven these days is a noisy affair, because of the constant complaints about the choir up there.