Poetry corner

No chance for David – By Dominic Falafel

Rags plainly borrowed not bought,
Or pressed,
His gusset was so clearly fraught,
Ill dressed

Shirt flailing against waist,
So tatty,
His sense of unpleasant taste,
Ratty

Tie like a broken snake,
Flaccid,
Over shoulder in his wake,
And vapid

Brogues cracked through soles are felt,
Tardy,
His gut restrained by tired belt,
Lardy

David thought this interview,
A shoo-in,
His threads have likely cast askew,
Bobby Ewing