Whack an ant
O, brother Charlie
are you a sycophant to sense?
In pious softness spoke
the Jesus Army lad.
Why could I am be sick of ants?
That much a strange-some question you are ask.
St Elmo’s Fire plastered across
his Jesus Army face.
& Charlie kept to champing toast
n’ scrambled eggs.
Ants are get in my kitchen once
& got into I’s box of Weetabix
so did my angry-was n’ basht ‘em
with the Radio Times.
Charlie flew into demonstrating his
Whack-an-ant technique
in spasms like a wind up toy
his club arm, pre-historic
&…
This sort of writing is not usually my kind of thing, but you are really winning me over on these! Very very very very good! 🙂
Cheers Someone. i like narrative poem or imaginative poetry. It’s how i got into poetry. i know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but Charlie is a culmination of loveable rogues & difficult not to fall head over heels for. Glad i have you on my side.
I am entertained! You make the Internet good! 🙂
i do my best. i really appreciate you telling me so.