So… Whilst we are desperately trying to rearrange the scattered pages of Bozzy’s ‘The British Empire Strikes Back’ into some sort of coherent order and/or discover any form of viable plot line in Rich’s ‘Axel Shrouds Merchant Seaman’, a rousing tale of sea, sex and Cephalopoda, here is another of Ginsbergbear’s poems:
“I’m home, Snookums!”
He hangs his deadman topper on the hallstand
And lays his all too brief case by the chiffonier.
“Is that you, darling?” from the kitchen.
“No I’m someone else.”
She appears in the doorway
Packing a Smith & Jones six-shooter.
“You are such an alias,” she snaps,
(Emphasising the last syllable and pronouncing it ‘arse’).
Aiming her rod at her nugatory spouse,
She plugs him square between the ears.