As the mob sludge-hovels home
ex-executioners wash their hands in the clubhouse
while guillotine stray dogs roam.
CATS SCRATCH CATS!
BATS BATTER BATS!
And beer mats get soaked in ale foam.
As the saints come marching in
one has blessed a mouse
while can-can dancers have anointed a tin.
STEAM TRAINS STEAM!
GILT-HEAD BREAM BREAM!
Washed up with a gleam and a bottle of gin.
whoever was led
couldn’t see it coming
the sooth-sayer said
while the tooth-playing journalist got a filling fill-in.
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Author: aprettykettleofpoetry
