Category: MikeCrowl

Does it
RECUR to you – or even occur to you – that I’m acting
SHYLY because while you eat your
DONUT – your sometimes spelt ‘doughnut’ – you
GNASH your teeth. How is that even possible?

I’m finding it hard to write a poem GAILY;
the words all seem pathetic and TRITE,
the opposite of being in the bounteous spaces of a HAREM,
more like trying the thickest dough to KNEAD.

UNIT-Y in the IKEA range is causing me
GLOOM, a gloom looming, a slippery slope, both
TROPEs for a panic attack, the polar opposite of a
LEMUR’s calm in his natural Madagascan state.

BERTHa was a pirate with a great big pirate’s
CHEST – of treasure. She’d oft berate her saucy mates with
LOFTY views, which would state treasure chests were Bertha’s, and
FEIGN what you like, or grate your teeth, you’d never see a piece of real estate.

ARTS? Y? Why do you want me to do arts?
LEAN To me, son, and I’ll tell you.
AMEN Dad, now I’ve listened to your wisdom, it
UNDID all my former thoughts on baseball.

CLOSE to the swing doors leading to the
SERVEry, I’m favoured with frequent
AROMAS from the kitchen, and waitresses passing. ‘Hey
FILLY!’ a bumptious customer calls. And is ignored.

For whom the BELLE
tolls; sorry SHAKY
spelling – I need a PSALM
at my life STAGE.

EBONY – I mean anybody – can sit on the
CONCH – sorry, couch. Conches are uncomfortable. Just
ATTIC – I mean a tick, and I’ll get the
STAFF – I mean stuff – we’re eating for dinner.