Looks pretty squat to me, too...(MF, that is)
Primate, I just loved your contribution. A truly sensitive soul.
Never mind Fish, we all know you meant well.
Keep taking them pills, Phyllis...
This thread is very soothing after the weekend's turmoil and today's strike / big knickers / defamation goings on. Phyllis' poems become quite mesmeric after a while.
I thought you might have found this thread quite upsetting Andrew given your prediliction for things feathery and beaks in general m'lud?
I have to remain annonymous for legal reasons.
hope you don't think this bad manners.
buster
Phyllis - do you have any interest in STORIES about small birds ?
After Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" (the Jacob Marley chapter)
Culkin was small. He was small alright. He was a bird and he was a small bird, diminitutive in stature and demeanour. Scrooge was sure of that, Culkin was a small bird. Of some things there could be doubt, but Scrooge could not doubt this, Culkin was small.
Small he was, and small he was likely to remain. For it was a truth universally acknowledged, that Culkin was a small bird.
And yet, more tragically, modelled on the same novel (the 'poor Dick was dead' chapter)
Poor Culkin was dead.
Mr Petrel, I can only assume that your children have educated you about early Eighties band "Bad Manners", because it surely falls outwith your record collection, far too modern...
These poems remind me (and please believe me Phyllis, no offence is meant) of the very wonderful poem Sid James writes in Hancock, when faking Byron poems on the wallpaper of their flat.
"Oh Wondrous moon that sheds its beam
Across the rooftops of East Cheam
How wonderful to see your light
Coming out tomorrow night ? "
a sweet little tweetie bird
would a tastey morsel be
for the boys of
the Hasty Pudding Society.
but first we must use our kalishnikoff
and rip the feathers and beak off
before we cook a tweetie bird
for the boys of the
Hasty Pudding Society.
from the collection "Hang'em High by the Harvard Yard Arm"
knew I put too many clues in that macaw post.
nope, my kids didn't exist in the early eighties. bad manners are filed near boomtown rats.
which reminds me, I heard on the radio the other day that sir Bob G and Bono have done more to persuade the banks to relieve third world debt singlehandedly - or should that be pairhandedly? - than any other pressure group!
diamond geezer that bob.
sory, you were all on about cheap women or something?
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