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:

STATUE

(The typical Irish Catholic home of the mid 20th Century was decorated with religious reproductions: Sacred Heart, Holy Family, Saints and Popes, to which company, American president John F Kennedy was an acceptable addition. The emergence of secular art in modern homes was seen by some conservatives as a betrayal of the wholesome values of the past.)

In the naked nude it stands,

A Venus statue without hands.

Woe, woe, woe; yes, woe is me!

It is a sinful sight to see.

It is a sight would make you shiver,

So dry your throat, you'd drink a river.

But 'tis not thoughts of drink you'd think,

But thoughts from which Christians ought to shrink.

Fault not yourself; those thoughts can't lie,

While those taunting tits assault your eye.

Shameful, naked, taunting tits!

What an awful thing it is

To have such a statue in the hallway

Of a Christian home in Galway!

Christian home! Is it? Where you won't see

Pictured pope, saint, or John F. Kennedy!

It brings, it brings tears to my eyes;

For what sort of morals does it symbolise?

Rotten Morals! Aye, it's plain to see

We're in the dirty, permissive society.

There's whoring going on across the nation,

Where once was no sin, save masturbation.

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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