London Wedding

I lost the rings in Billingsgate,
when jumping off the bus.
We were only nearly late
thanks to Kev and Gus.

We stole a hooky minicab
from over Canning Town,
parked it by a snooker club,
its tyres going down.

An owl shat on my courtroom suit
and Molly’s dress got torn
‘cos she slipped up on a juicy fruit
while reading foodie porn.

Vicky snogged the registrar,
she did it for a bet:
Ivanka asked a policeman,
if the pubs were open yet.

When we signed the register,
we used a borrowed pen,
then we shot out of the building
to the Rose and Crown again.