It’s impossible to understand otters:
They mix up all their letters
And only use voles.
The Smiths at Christmas
Morrissey said to Marr
As he opened his first present:
‘Please, please, please let me get what I want…’
His eyes lit up
As he realised that now
He had a stitch to wear.
He put his hand in a glove
While Marr pulled out a piece of paper from a cracker:
‘Stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before…’
Everyone agreed that
That joke isn’t funny anymore.
‘Heaven knows I’m miserable now,’
Said Andy, who was still ill
From the night before.
He lay on the floor
Mike clutched his stomach and stared at his plate:
‘I started something I couldn’t finish.’
Morrissey took the nut loaf in his gloved hand:
‘Why do I spend Christmas Day
With people who I’d much rather
Enjoyed my cooking?’
He threw the nut loaf out the window,
Causing panic in a street in Manchester.
‘Bigmouth strikes again!’
‘Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me,’
Before riding his punctured bicycle
To the cemetery gates,
Narrowly avoiding a ten tonne truck on the way.
Midnight in The Stationery Shop
It’s so quiet,
You could hear a pen drop.
I am clearly not busty
Yet several times I have said that I am
Clearly I meant that I was busy,
Though I have typed the word busty
Frequently enough for it to seem deliberate.
I reassure myself that everyone knows
That if I was truly busty
I would be too busy
To write emails.
Yes. I remember Adlestrop –
The church, because one afternoon
We went inside and had a look
And I wrote a comment in the visitors’ book.
Not lovely or peaceful or simply divine!
No. Something original: a genuine sign
Of my appreciation.
I wrote well maintained
And for a minute you scowled at me
As if to say
I should have been more respectful,
And it seemed that God agreed
As the sky growled and it rained.