Author: Mike Crowl

BROWN-minded from despair, and all those
WOKE-Nigglers who say how much they care; O-
VARY the tune a little, Wokes, let me play happily just for once in a
FIELD where privilege and offence aren’t niggling at the rest of us folks!

CHOCK full of the mind-searing joys of
OPIUM, I raise up what’s left of my brain and
CYNICally ravage the savage
HORDE of naysayers.

REVUE begins; instant garbage
SLUSH from the comedian’s mouth
REPELs this audience member. I
YIELD my ticket and go home.

FRANK, me old mate, the blacksmith working at the
FORGE, isn’t much of an artisan; truth to tell he’s a bit of a
PLANK, but boy, can he make a beast of a bonny
SALSA!

The meal was of immense VALUE,
but one look at the DEBIT
card made me feel LOUSY.
My wife, in her generous way, called me an inGRATE!

CHUTE the messenger? Don’t.
SIEVE the messenger? Do.
ADAPT the messenger and take him into your family? You’d be
DITTY not to.

NINJA receives the Sceptic’s
AWARD for proving that the
OZONE layer isn’t
QUITE as holey as once proclaimed.

ASHEN burns on ancient brown ash-
TRAYS. Nicotine stains on fingers.
BUGLE warning, hide the stash! Something’s
AMISS! It’s that smoky reek than lingers!

GUAVA
FUDGE; now I’ve heard everything. My brain
BEGINs to ignite, over-idle, rev up and
MOTOR.