It was my much despised dish
But I ate it with relish,
Because of a granted wish
To be served Mackerel Fish
And treated to a glimpsed quiche
But that was rather childish
To a friend acting British
All of a sudden snobbish
And I hated q wished fish
Like Devout Christians Hashish...
Then, I'd been the quite sheepish:
Unstable Saul Son of Kish
For accepting The Despised
After it was a bit spiced.
Each time, he clumsily drank,
Rapidly shrank:
Increasing glasses of burning whisky
He knew was risky.
Then, twice ‘Pitiless Rum’ he tried
And up he dried
A mackerel, from head-to-tail fried!
Like a plant to soon wilt
At a stand still; did tilt…
Now, exceedingly poor,
His company forcing on a family of four,
He had the Lord God to thank,
Each time, he half-filled his tank.
But it has nothing changed
And his life not re-arranged:
In drinking quarters, of Field Marshal Rank
Which I heard and my heart sank.
God! A man by choice bat-blind,
Straight up to his mind?
To all others perfectly behind
While a perfect wristwatch he does wind…
Alcohol Field Marshal,
Whom to ‘Positive Change’ could brave an “I shall”.
mackerel pudding
mackerel cake
mackerel pie for goodness sakes!
mackerel blinds
mackerel drapes
mackerel ice cream on chocolate cakes.
mackerel poems
mackerel words.
mackerel now sounds rather absurd.
mackerel dogs
mackerel cats.
mackerel quilts made by a skittish old bird.
feasting gulls gather
on a lip of cockled sand
mackerel mourning