Sinister: Monday Poem

[Cassell Professional Publishing]

Hi kids

The delightful Debbie volunteered me at virtual gunpoint to post this week's
verse.

Problem is, I had a bit of a bad experience with poetry when I was 17 (blame
Sylvia Plath), and ever since, I've never been able to take it seriously. So
all I know are silly poems, like this one:

A girl I once knew had a theory
That she was of Irish descent
Her name was Fionna O'Leary
So I guess that she knew what she meant

Fionna and I become lovers
In a chapel one Sunday in Hull
It wasn't that we were attracted
It was just that the sermon was dull

She loved me because I was honest
I loved her because she was fat
She shed thirty pounds so I slept around
You can't get more honest than that

The relationship finished with fireworks
On March the fifth, just before nine
If Guy Fawkes had been four months later
This might be a better last line


I hope this satisfies your craving for verse.

Incidentally, on the seagull/eagle front, my hearing must be worse than I
thought. I always assumed that Isobel was declaring her support for
Liverpool Football Club:

If there was a Friedel
Would you love me as a Riedle?

No, maybe not...

Later,

DAVID












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