A brief and rather silly poem to follow, though it wasn’t so silly it didn’t win me a prize of £50 in one of the ‘Flash 500’ competitions. Some might say it also has deep philosophical implications. Or, on the other hand, not.
A Dramatic Interlude
‘Ten seconds ‘til the bomb falls! Whatever shall we do?’
‘Well, firstly, our son Peter; his father isn’t you.
It was Bob the bread man in his van, next to his Best Sliced White;
we had to move his crusty buns to have room to do it right’.
‘Is that so, you trollope? Well, I can trump your escapade;
your sister and your Auntie Maud are among the girls I’ve laid’.
She grinned and said, ‘I’ve sent your books to the Inland Revenue’.
‘I killed your budgie Sam’, he said, and flushed him down the loo’.
The TV interrupted them; ‘now, everyone keep calm;
that ten second alert you heard was all a false alarm’.