Hello Alison and all,
I did track the poem down this lunchtime. As I could get home tonight and find
the painters and decorators may have unplugged all my kit to get to the wall
behind it with the gloss. Here's the poem that Les wrote a few years ago: I've
adjusted the last line but one to fit the current story though:
ODE TO JOY
. How shall I dispose of your cellphone?
Let me count the ways
That I have been inspired
By the pretty tune it plays;
Which of your bodily orifices
Will best the bastard own?
What will people think when it rings?
How will you answer the phone?
The words that you could say
Would be both spurious and sparse;
Hello; I'm in the nick,
And I'm talking through my arse.
ends
