Some of the saints came by,
and brought the board.
Adulf was there. Sieg heil! He did not smile.
You know, mein Freund, the etymologish
origin of this Wee yah?
Hau ab, Adulf!
Columba, Brendan and some Holy Teagues came by.
Arrah! Begorra! Holy Mother and all the saints!
And isn’t it terrible bad luck, you know it is now,
To see an empty glass
This time of the evening?
And upside down too, bejasus!
Here too, Monica, our token woman,
Despairingly depressed, pathetically and pathologically
Dull as a beetle,
Generally out of sorts, spoke staccato to the click of the needles.
It’s being so cheerful as keeps me going!
She said. We launched the glass. Away we went
And summoned a spirit as easy as catching
A three legged camel’s
But the Devil,
Who envies holy Guinness drinkers,
Sent us a baddie. A mean spirited spirit.
The glass began to prowl
Under the fingers of liplicking saints
I looked for you but you had made yourself
Scarcer than nooky in a sandstorm.
The glass prowled on, vindictive in its emptiness,
Fractious in its upsidedownness.
PORK-PIE AND HP SAUCE.
You kept your snout down, did not show up!
For the lads
I found a plate of locusts,
Of both kinds.