a fistful of Rennies
from Poetic Off Licence
© Hovis Presley

struggling contortionist
couldn’t make ends meet
decided to call it a day
got the sack from the massage parlour
rubbed people up the wrong way
you don’t have to be mad to work here
but I am!
he’d yell at any hint of wages
though hardly workaholic
not touched workahol in ages
capsized he clapped eyes
on a novel franchise
and soon all his energies spent
on a fast food theme restaurant
for the sarcastic
called The Spud-U-Resent
the fudge you begrudge
the pies you despise
the salads you couldn’t
give a toss about
it’s a triumph
of mind over matter
it’s a concept whose time’s overripe
let the air ring
with disconsolate chatter
hear the till sing
with each cynical gripe
would you like to order a non-starter?

envious the local baker confectioner
turns troublemaker
tired of all rival’s wealth amazing
rushes in with all buns glazing
doughnut forsake me oh my darling…

the cream on the sign
at the scene of the crime
was forensics’ vital clue
I’m not so muesli amazed
said PC E272
care for a drink?
no, but I looked after some broccoli once