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Ode to a Three Taco Combo (Upon a Most Blustery Day)

Many of me reader believe your old pal Captain Drew to be only concerned with technical innovations (like the rPhone™) or flirting with biologically accommodating lassies (like, um… what’s your number?). But I submit this to you: Only a few moments ago, I completed a little pooem what might entice those budding minstrels amongst you to craft some toe-tapping, boot-slapping accompaniment fit for the outhouse privy. Just mind where you tap your toes. Please be so kind to attribute this work of literature to yours truly should you decide to scratch it into the planks above your own ship’s honeypot. (Note: this pram may not be suitable for lubbers what have never been poetically inspired whilst in the head, or lassies what wish to think of Captain Drew as having the ability to think above the level of a 14 year old boy)

A festive swirl
of brown and green
around the bowl
and back again

the flecks of red
peppers belie
the fragrant waft
of poopy pie

this rhyme
this chant
this scurvy rant
does speak
of things
beneath me pants

of shrimp
and fish
and calamari
of cole (the slaw)
I was hungry

the food was great
I ate the plate
I licked the bowl
and kissed the mate
I tipped like class
and bowed my hat
and soon I sat
upon my ass

I sang to the fish
and I tooted the whales
I jettisoned flotsam
and jettisoned ale

the fusilade over
the battle dinned
methinks this rhyme
has reached the end
oh wait
oh no!!

it’s back again

the spin
the swirl
of poop unfurled
dost tell the tale
of toes that curl
beneath my feet
in anxious squat
oh crap
oh crap

it went ker-plop!

Man overboard.

My thanks to the fine folks at Six Feet Under (Westside) for the delicious (and inspiring) lunch fare they served us today. Great food, great service, great theatre afterward.


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