I pondered, lonely as a sot
Who’s on his fifteenth Holsten Pils,
When all at once I saw a lot
Of hungry Duck-pussed Platterbills:
Two dozen saw I at a glance,
And all regarding me askance.
Audacious as a bossy aunt
They ate my supper off the tray,
Consumed my flatmate’s Bonsai plant,
Then set about a Milky Way,
That I’d been saving up to eat
For afters, as a special treat.
I crept towards the door, but one
Reached out a claw to touch my knee:
It seemed a wise thing not to run
From such voracious company;
I stood quite still and hoped that they
Would eat my food and go away.
But oft, when in my bath I lie
To bask in blissful solitude,
They come and nibble at my thigh
And whisper, Now you’re really screwed!
They’ve even scoffed my espadrilles,
Those fiendish Duck-pussed Platterbills.