Strong Beer Blues - Poem by Hugh Mitchell
Last night by way of celebration, I
drank three Trappists and now I'm asking why.
That toothpaste on my haemorrhoids - ah why?
A bad mistake! It really stung, oh my!
I brushed my teeth with KY jelly - I
just got confused, and that is also why
I slept in shoes and trousers, by-the-by.
And now the morning's here - weakly I lie.
Through leather tongue and velvet teeth I sigh.
The price I've paid for short-term fun is high.
My head's a throbbing bomb with flashpoint nigh.
All noise is agony - now I know why
those brewing monks stay silent till they die.
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