The Derby And Joan Club Riot Poem by Owen Cullimore

Sitting in this cell
with deep regret
after a night
I will never forget.

With thirty others
pensioners one and all
our night of excitement
the yearly Derby & Joan Club ball.

Arrived at seven
Me and the wife
looking for laughter
all we got was strife.

All started happily
everyone was on form
Apple punch flowed freely
as was generally the norm.

However, jealousies were evident
between some of the wives
How a few single men
could cause such a surprise.

Old Mrs Bailey, a vicious old hag
not nice at all, looks long lost
got upset at remarks made
so revenge at all cost.

Put Gin in the punch
with Vodka & Wine
suddenly lots of laughter
this was not a very good sign.

music was playing
Dance floor was full
women swirling, dresses full blown
the men just on the pull.

Old Mrs Brown, not used to strong drink
flailing about as the light flickers
let it all hang out, she was having a ball
fell on her arse, showing her bright red knickers

A scream from the bandstand
come help me please
old Mrs Riley
was down on her knees

The drink had awoken
desires long forgotten
tried to debag the singer
oh dear! How rotten.

Old Mrs Smith, revenge on her mind
picked up a custard pie, she had spied with one eye
spotting Mr Davies
taking good aim, she let it fly.

He ducked saw it coming
the vicar not so fast
caught it smack in the face
all there were aghast.

A punch up ensued
I couldn't believe my eyes
all these demure old ladies
throwing around these pies.

Fisticuffs abounded
all were involved it strived
someone dialled 999
the police then arrived.

The total disbelief
on Sergeant Brown's face
women were fighting
all over the place.

Chuck them in the wagon
he yelled with great force
off to the cells, we'll arrest them all
the Judge can deal with it as a matter of course.

On Sunday the vicar
a bit worse for wear
went to his pulpit
high in the air.

The disgusting behaviour
at the Derby & Joan
had caused him concern
and boy did he moan.