Poem by Pete Crowther
We never should have let her in,
Grendel’s mum, you said that we’d be sorry
If we did, but I was feeling generous
After several double gins
And when she knocked at six o’clock
Quick up I jumped and called “Come in”.
A thundercloud stood on the step!
It wasn’t just that she was big,
She was obese, with eyes the size of saucers
And hot breath enough to burn the curtains
When she coughed. Like some enormous
Tyrannosaurus Rex she lurched
Into the room sending all the ornaments
Flying from the mantelpiece,
Splintering the floorboards, frightening the cat.
Then she started getting nasty
When I asked her to refrain
From chewing up the tablecloth
And spitting out the bits.
The telephone was still intact
So I dialled nine-nine-nine.
When the operator asked me
What service I required
I didn’t want an ambulance,
I didn’t want the police
I didn’t want a fire engine,
Not one of them could cope,
So I screamed into the mouthpiece
As the monster ran amok:
“I need someone to slay a beast,
Please send St. George or Beowulf”.
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