I dropped the draft of my cook book.
I’d thrown everything that I could in.
Yes I’d worked really hard,
Now it’s covered in lard –
The proof is in the pudding.
Professional performance poet! MA in Writing/Education and residencies at various schools. Books published by Bloomsbury. Sharing my poetry, students' work, and miscellanea. Blog posts not always child friendly.
I dropped the draft of my cook book.
I’d thrown everything that I could in.
Yes I’d worked really hard,
Now it’s covered in lard –
The proof is in the pudding.
Eton have put in an order.
They require a cabin or two.
They can’t do their Latin
unless they are sat in
a hut, with a draught blowing through.
Eton have put in an order.
The cloisters, they’re just not enough.
To bone up on Greek
and the knowledge they seek
they need something a little more rough.
Eton have put in an order.
Apparently pupils learn best
when they’re cooped like a hen
in a little tin pen
while they’re doing their algebra test.
Yes, Eton have put in an order,
since producing the minds of the nation
is not about dosh;
they need nothing that’s posh –
it just calls for some cool corrugation.
I’m zippy, zappy, zany
and I rather like
to fool around;
I’m humorous and wacky
so just come and watch
my wit abound;
I’m daft, demented, dotty
and I’ll always have
a trick or two –
a rabbit in a hat, perhaps,
or I’ll produce
a joke for you;
it’s true so people can't abide
the fact that I’m
a merry-maker,
but I reckon it’s a HOOT
to have a job
as undertaker.