Square Dance Patter Splatter - crude
For yer supper, vindaloo,
hop to the music doing a poo,
toilets are crowded, yer tummy is mush,
bang the doors and plead with 'em, 'Rush.'
Drop yer pants and let it go,
paper's all gone (but yet you don't know),
fearing the soap is now missing too, yes?
Well, jus' saying...You're in a mess!
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment