Contents:

·         Cat

·         Caterpillar

·         Christmas When

·         Frankie Wankie

·         Junira Nations

·         Approaching Twenty

·         Mná

·         Joan Maguire

·         My Love Bites

·         Lily White Breast

·         Alan Mullally’s Song (Now I’m Leaving)

·         The Hero

·         Kim Bassinger’s Diet

·         Statue

·         The Great God Pan

·         Worms

·         Spare a Thought

·         Resolution

·         Jimmy Loves Mary

·         Books

·         In Slattery’s

·         Krunchy and Milady

·         The Da

·         The Great Six-O

·         My Garden

·         Female Modes of Dress (or The Miniskirt)

·         Good Morning

·         The Dance in the Village Hall

·         Typing Section

·         Vacant Mood

·         Do You Yen for a Feel

·         Obsessed

·         Silver Wedding

·         Corrakit

·         The Civil Servant

·         The New Daughter of Houlihan

·         Mayo in July

·         Home Computers

·         Lewinsky

·         Jacussy

·         Tit Shaking

·         Paddy Macaroni

·         Hour on a Bean

The Outrageous Poems of Krunchie Killeen:

HOME COMPUTERS

Home computers were devised

By a fellow of subversive frame of mind:

His object, within the home,

To create conditions of revolt.

The machine would be a teenage tool

To make middle aged dad feel a fool.

Terms like "ROM" and "RAM" and "Bus"

That don't mean anything to us

Would soon enriddle teenage chat,

Confirm the generation gap,

Make kids feel the power of knowledge

And see their dads as useless fossils.

Wisdom, they would soon believe

Is only proper to the teens,

Which hitherto was deemed to reign

Inside their know-all father's brain.

And so, insidiously, is blown

Authority within the home.

But revolution, now as ever,

Will fail, for those in power are clever

At turning tables, for, indeed,

In revolts that seemingly succeed,

Mostly the incoming power

Is the self same class that ruled before.

Now every night in every 'tech

I'll tell you what you can expect -

Middle-aged dads with furrowed brow

Learning all there is to know

About these things, and, by this means,

Restoring power o'er their teens.

And, yes, the last laugh will be ours,

For computers will enlarge our powers.

Those office "chicks" whom we heard speak

About us as "that old creep"

Will learn that we can get along

Without them, now that, for a song,

We can have computers do accounts

And rattle all those letters out.

One girl now is all we'll need;

You can guess, of course, which one we'll keep -

That lissom lass we'd love to lay

To whom we heard the others say,

"How can you fancy that old creep,"

For middle-aged revenge is sweet.

And when school leavers ask for jobs,

We'll simply tell them to get lost.

So, son, you may be brave and slim,

And I pot-bellied with lewd grin,

But here’s a saying you should take in:

You are out and I am in.

No work for you, more cash for me,

We call this productivity.

The computer's function thus is stated:

Power to the Middle Aged.

Copyright

You may copy the poems for your own amusement, but you may not distribute or perform any poem publicly or for reward until you have obtained my consent.

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Now Visit Krunchies’ Verse Blog to view his current oeuvre. 

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