It’s Just Clover with a Posh Name
The Irish have a special day
St. Patrick’s Day, so says my mother
Instead of hurling real stones
They just throw shamrocks at each other.
They Got All Steamed Up
The beauty queen for kicks last month
Strode naked through the sauna
(The gentlemen’s near Eton school)
And sat down in the corner
The Cannibals are Cooking (Part 1)
The cannibals are cooking –
Missionary roast, of course,
They’ll burn him at the stake
And serve him with t’ martyr sauce
It’s Her Bent
Elana Banana was rotting in jail
“Appealing is fruitless,” she thought with a wail
Thick-skinned kleptomaniac – this is my fate
As hard as I try I just cannot go straight
Two’s Company, a Crowd’s a Crowd
Amanda the panda sits on her verandah
Observing the crowds at the zoo
This captive abuse means she can’t reproduce
Well with thousands spectating, could you?
Do You Dream in Black and White?
Penny remembered the words of her mother,
“Why can’t you behave like your sister and brother?
It’s simply unreas’nable,” mama would scold,
“A penguin may never complain of the cold!