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John Betjeman, by Joanna Townmouse
Come, friendly bombs, on Ambridge fall!
Of late it's fit for b*gger all,
Raze Dower House to Village Hall
And Lakey Hill.
Come, bombs, and blow to Kingdom Come
Â鶹ԼÅÄ Farm, The Stables , Glebelands' slum,
Ruth's cows, Ruth's kids, Ruth's voice , Ruth's Mum,
Ruth's culinary skill.
Mess up the land for Badger's Leap -
and mess up Crawford (slimy creep).
Vaporise David's flock of sheep
In whole , not part.
And get that man , shoes decked in chains,
Who thinks with **** and not with brains,
And spare us all the labour pains
Of Irish tart.
Then smash Jack Woolley's jollity,
And Peggy's pledge of constant tea,
Please stop her whingeing snobbery.
And Linda Snell.
But spare the elder Grundy Lad
(Though not his boss, nor Bro., nor Dad)
And dead that Helen , she's as bad,
Her Cheese as well.
They are so dim they do not know
The Argies lost in Sapporo
When Beckham scored 'fore whistle's blow.
The Dunderheads.
They talk of Milk and Set Aside
Within the Bull, while lo! outside,
Yoghurt-laden speeds Taffy Bride
To Underwoods.
In farmhouse kitchens, casseroles
Feed the gentry , while the proles
Dine off poached deer. Their kids , damned souls,
Go off the rails.
Come friendly bombs on Ambridge fall
The Fergie hoots its clarion call.
G.M. rape engulfs it all;
The earth exhales.
Dead Poets Society
More
parodies - from Agatha Christie to Damon Runyon
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