Okay, here it is let’s take on all comers.
There once was a little ti’e called the end. ((sic) = time))
It was the end but not the begin, so to speak
In other words
It did no’ begin with a shrill shriek
It begun (sic) with a shrill overtone of li-fe
Such that it did no’t (sic) (i.e. “did and did no’ ” with the “and did” missing)
Such that it did not matter what survived the poetry but
the end game of souls and selfless want. (This means that it is the time of the new energy but not the time of the old thing called cellular microscopy – you’ll see)
Once there was a new man in town called Bruce (me)
But now there is only the new kid in the block (again this is me)
But I am not a new to this game I am an ol’ hand that is the end of that.
Hence my Credit Control game, you juvy-bound horsewhip Seabiscut
You head is in the sand but soon it shall be between the sheets
If you don’t watch it!
Bye! (Some poetic licence is allowed, your honour – this is not a dire threat, this is against the possibility that she shall try and draw an account against my name in A-meri-ka)
I am watching and waiting to here the results of her brain scan. (Hence the cellularmicroscopy imagary – try to put THAT in a poem!)
Copyright B E Saunders 2016