Poetry

Thursday, 4 January 2024

Couldn't fault her

 Sally thumper

College thumper

Oh they all were in the bumper

Bumper of tides right up to

The jumper

He jumped her, he didn't jump her

Oh perhaps they suit one another

It could have been his mother

He was the spit of her brother

Oh thumper, college thumper

Grown green as petrol pumper

Looking in the locked windscreen

Of a shifty customer


Make a liner, make a leaner, it's

Always getting cleaner

Apart from when it's getting leaner

In the heat of the sun

Well he dumped her, and she

humped her and they all fell 

Around in the summer

What a bummer

That scummer

Didn't somersault her bank vaulter


Did the polka with voltaire

Did Malta with Fred Astaire

She was a moulter and soon

Had lost all her hair

Couldn't fault her

Better bolt her

Down like the table's chair

Out on the rough seas

Of life's faultless cares

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