speaking of shocking things
as people do these days
i noted an incident in the centre last week
which really made my blood run cold
a portly but dignified gentleman with a green monocle
and a nonchalant manner
suddenly reached up to his left eye
pulled it from its socket and ate it
the consternation in the chooch was immediate
coffee cups were upturned on all sides
and fay traders screamed loudly
i sat huddled in the corner
the chooch wadding, or was it the honsic, was equal to the occasion
sweating profusely he drew on his dignity and
said you cannot do this ere
you cannot intimidate members of the fay trade team
i am wise beyond my many years,
man and youth in this chooch
you are a glass eater and that was a glass eye
why cant people mind their own biz
that was no glass eye it was a pickled onion
this is a curse of the chooch that waddings are forever
attempting to interfere and restrict the liberty of the individual
he picked himself up swallowed his cup of coffee strode into the vestry
and passed out of my life for ever….
ermine
(East Yorkshire,16 August 2014)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem