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:

SILVER WEDDING

It was a mistake from the start,

For head was over-ruled by heart.

But was it heart, or lower still?

Was it lust instructed will?

Whate’er the locus, the emotion

Filled me like a noxious potion

In a stupor to embark

Upon a voyage in the dark;

To sail out upon an unknown sea

And there entrust my destiny.

I thought, perhaps, I had control,

This voyage and vessel be my own,

To steer by chart upon a course

Of which my wondrous brain be source.

That plan was vain, not on that crew

Was even one my will to do,

And soon my every act and deed

By outside forces were decreed,

So that I cried out to the wind,

“O for one sole moment mine!”

The answer came in thunderous boom:

“’Twas thou thyself that chose this doom,

To dedicate thy middle life

To years of trouble and of strife

“And chaos and tumult and disorder,

As on this luna sea you wander.

Such years are promised twenty-five,

Before some solace may arrive,

“For then thou may’st beat thy chest,

Shouting ‘Offspring leave the nest;

Too long your whim has steered my course

Henceforth my own will be its source.’”

“Then, shall my life be mine once more

When offspring fly to foreign shore?”

Again the thunderous answer roars:

“No, never more. No, never more.”

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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