Friday 8 January 2010

THE SELF SERVING SHELF.

Marry a fool,
They won’t let you down,
They’ll look up to you forever
With the face of a clown.
Follow you home,
And tidy your trail,
And listen intently
As you tell your tale.

Or marry a flirt,
They will never be down,
They won’t bother you much,
They’ll be all over town.
Finally get home,
Leaving their trail,
And will glaze over quickly
When you start to rail.

Marry a virgin,
They’ve never been used,
But find everything painful,
And are easily abused.
Pliant to mould,
And simple to train,
They will let you be selfish,
Allow you to complain.

Or marry a parent,
They’re already bruised,
But are much too attentive,
And swift to refuse.
Frigid and cold,
Classically trained,
Have kids, who are selfish,
Above all your blame.

Marry a girl,
They’ll make you mature,
They’ll revue your condition,
And make you feel unsure.
Sober and hazy,
But correct in hygiene,
You’ll be made to feel dirty,
An ageing has been.

Or marry a woman,
You’ll make them youthful,
You can tell them your history,
And be almost truthful.
Drunken and crazy,
Incorrectly obscene,
They’ll let you feel dirty,
And forever sixteen.

Marry a boy,
You can do so overseas,
But you had better be able
To handle the sleaze.
Carefully wake up,
And consider this choice,
And remember the outrage
Surrounding young boys.

Or marry a man,
You can do so in Leeds,
This is far more acceptable,
And liberals are pleased.
Urgently wake up,
And look at this choice,
Are you all the way out
To play with those toys.

Marry them all,
But one at a time,
It’s not fair otherwise,
Apparently a crime.
Socially discreet
For a life on the town,
This is really too far
And too wide to be sound.

Or marry yourself,
You’ve known all along,
It is the only alternative,
And where you belong.
Quiet and sweet,
Not of street or of town,
And ultimately happier
With no one around.

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