VOGON BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
VOGON BUT NOT FORGOTTEN
They were here, in their creative funk
Writing and speaking poetry as if drunk
Recognised as verses in their own way
They kept chanting, hoping we’d obey
But as always, so awful to see and hear
Expecting those affected to shed a tear
A poem directed at us, time and again
Never interpreting our wincing as pain
One might just have seen some feeling
But it was disgusting, leaving us reeling
It kept going on and on, never ending
As a jerky delivery, not heart rending
Personal readings thought to be alright
Not as bad as on Vogon Poetry Night
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