Poetry rectangle

Savoury trees

By Jordan Drysponge-Wetsponge

A decent buffet is really all a chap wants,

Wotsits, sausage rolls and mushroom vol-au-vents

Add in pints of strong continental lager,

And your average Joe will be in a heavenly lather

But for the love of arse don’t just lazily tip out a bag of twiglets,

And expect THAT to constitute a buffet, I’d rather nosh on piglets’

Buttocks or electrocute myself in the bath with a hairdryer,

Or immerse my whole body in a turned on chip fryer,

Or throw myself in front of the 8.46 from Waterloo,

Or stick a fork in my eyes and give myself a Chinese burn. Oooo

It makes me mad these twiglet loving idiots whose brains are clearly dead,

Just going around pouring them out and calling that a buffet instead

of taking some time and care about their savoury presentations

Running around all evil and weird with their nasty twiglet machinations,

I’d rather shove a piglet, yes another one, in my ear than gracefully concede to friggin twiglets PLEASE!

Hello? People? What’s so wrong with a decent bit of pineapple and cheese?

You bunch of howling apes with your stupid savoury trees,

Except they’re not trees are they, Mmmm? They are made of erm, actually…

I’m not sure what they are or what they could be

Marmite? Oh marmite did you say?

I quite like marmite, but I’m still going to stick forks in my eyes anyway

Hah! That will teach you, Mum, for

Not serving me a buffet for my 43rd birthday

 

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