Will Type For Food

 3.

For no reason at all, a poem.    The colours and shapes decided They needed to sort out what’s what –  If the blue could beat green in a bl...

I never read a book before reviewing it; it prejudices a man so. - Sydney Smith.   News comes in  via the Grauniad  that critics and author ...

Someone rang our phone the other day. What kind of a monster does that? Rings you - when you are at home, expecting - what? Some kind of ans...

  I say that it’s diplodocus  And you say diplodocus  O how the fates do mock us  With this verbal hocus pocus  So whether it’s diplodocus  ...

THE POEM Today your child is a mess  Tomorrow I expect to all intents and purposes that they will be a pile of cess Happy Mother’s Day I gue...

I call this poem CAR PEOPLE because I am and it isn't.  Though beholden to a Holden, I am fonder of a Honda, Make Elantra be my mantra...

 Hello and here is a poem called HEY CHATBOT, WRITE A POEM IN THE STYLE OF AN AI WRITING IN THE STYLE OF A PERSON WRITING IN THE STYLE OF AN...

I like to see the Siamangs at the zoo. Especially when I see one Siamang see another Siamang. Because then, I see a Siamang among the Siaman...

  OF CHRISTMAS CHRIS   How he was DRAGGED DOWN TO CHRISTMAS HELL, The MANNERS AND MODES of the CHRISTMAS DEAD , and CHRISTMAS DAEMONS ,  An...

 Welcome to International Men's Day!  You might think that every day is International Men's Day, but that is not the case: in fact, ...

 To take it from the top, there's 'take it from the top', which means what I just meant it to mean. You might take it to the top...

It is the year two zillion and twenty two, and the world has become a dark despotic hellhole since the extinguishing of our sun a millennia ...

Salad does not exist probably. Have you ever walked in one direction and been met by a salad walking in the other direction? Have you ever b...

 Grace.  Graz.  Coup.  Coo?  Coup de grâce.  Kuh.  Kuh + Gras.  Gras.  Ich danke dir. 

In which two old wits farter on, or did I get that the wrong way round?  THE GREAT DAY - I can't believe it, it's almost here at las...

I hereby present to you the usual sort of cat poem, which I call:  Splat Nat      The fat            cat                 Sat                ...

The autumn leaves The winter wishes it would bloody well clean up after itself.