UNIVERSITY BLUES: DAY DEAN DANCED

In his veins bubbled fury,

From his face trickled sweat,

Up above a persistent din,

There boomed a furious dean,

"What’s this awful rumpus,

On my part of this campus?"

"You filthy hooligans,

Is this bloody ruction,

That higher education,

Your whorish mama took a loan

To send you here for?

Your asses back to their classes,

Dumbass freakish donkeys!"

Who knew the portly dean,

Babariga dancing in the wind,

Corpulent buttocks jiving

To a macabre drum of feet,

The din chasing at long last,

Could scamper so damn fast?

Written by: The one whose name adorns the fucking masthead.

BABY'S DAY OUT: THE STORY

The bawling doesn't come,

Oblivious to the expected,

The baby doesn't cry,

Abomination! They cry,

And WHAM!

Calloused palms meet smooth skin,

We must elicit the essential.

Robust and high-pitched,

The baby's throaty reaction,

As if to say,

"I've heard your gist,

I'll be old enough soon,

I'll get u for it,

Wicked nurse."

After the nurse had slapped my butt, and I had burst to life, she handed me to my mother who in turn crooned admiringly before she handed me back to the nurse, the cue for washing up. I was bawling quite loudly now, and I could sense the nurse’s discomfort. Wasn’t that what everyone wanted – loud bawling? If only she knew, she wouldn’t have slammed her palms on my little bootie, baa baa baa. Maybe she hasn’t eaten. Now we were strolling down a white hall. Ok, the nurse was strolling down the hall, me in tow, bawling still, the antiseptic smell of the hospital violating my virgin nostril, this fact nudging up the volume of my bawling a fair few decibels. My face was ensconced in a rather succulent swelling – rather comforting –

BABY'S DAY OUT

The soon-to-be father's hysteria,
The mother's mind-boggling pain,
Closely pushed by joy near enough,
Doctors and nurses,
Calm and serene,

TWINKLE'S ALL GROWN UP NOW!

Jiggle, jiggle shapely butt
How I wonder, "WHAT THE FUCK?!!"
Up above the knee just high

Like a bootie on a...thigh

DEAR KID IN THE WOMB

Dear Kid in the womb,

I have one first order for you,

You must look like me!

The one who carries you – your mother, my woman

Yes, she’s fairer than Xerxes’ best maidens

But I don’t look too bad myself

Dear Kid in the womb,

Male, female or otherwise,