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The Dead Poets Society Reunion.

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  • The Dead Poets Society Reunion.

    This scribbler’s band, we understand meet yearly on Christmas Eve
    A gathering of poets and would you know it, more talent it’s hard to perceive
    At that den of sin a notorious inn called The Place of the Rabid Goat
    Bards galore, over twenty or more and others of fame and of note
    Happy and warm, sheltered from the storm that outside was a’ raging
    A joyful throng for the beer was strong and the girls were quite engaging
    Chairman Keats got to his feet to quieten the crowd with his gavel
    “Order Please, you gents and ladies; SHUT UP you unruly rabble”
    Downing a gin, cried “Let the evening begin, Mr Kipling take the stand if you please’
    Stoned out of his mind it was rather unkind to be hoisted onto his knees
    Grey haired old Kips took a couple of sips “Right” he said with a lecherous grin
    ”Yesterday on the bed where Mandy lay, I was a better man than you Gunga Din’
    ‘Now I don’t know his name or how hell he came all the way from Mississippi
    But now he’s here, give a big cheer, hurry up mate and make it slippy’
    ‘I’ll tell you a tale where men are all men and the women are quite hairy too
    On the wide open plains where seldom it rains, it’s deficient of Diners and Loo’s
    McGraw’s the name and it’s held with acclaim in the Land Where the Buffalo Roam
    There ain’t no canteens all I eat is canned beans that’s why I can never go home”.
    Good things must end and it’s a touch cruel to send the company out in the snow
    But Burns and Shelley were feeling quite merry and so were Will Shaky and Poe
    Lord Byron felt fruity and considered it his duty to escort Sylvie Plath cross the floor
    Discovered next day to the landlords’ dismay was a very rude verse on the door
    So if on that night you’ve a poem to recite, go down to the Goat and insist
    Among all your peers there’s no worries or fears cos their all most certainly -----

  • #2
    A whirlwind of poetic imaginings...wonder what it would look like if you got all of the zone poets in the same room, knocking back a pint?