Day Twenty Three – pot luck poem (hurrah, I caught up!!!)

Was inspired by the clerihew prompt, so wrote one for Sir Terry Wogan, which (as I found out on catchup) he read at the end of his Sunday show on BBC Radio 2. That’s two poems read out on national radio during the challenge – wowser!!
Anyway, back to the mental block. Finally got past it but once again it’s quite a depressing and odd read. Here’s hoping for a more cheery end to the challenge.


Apparently it was three clubs,
though I can’t remember a third.
We got thrown out of the first,
because of my dancing
and that lairy guy.
Left me with a bruise on my thigh.

The second was totally dead,
I do remember that,
so we did tequila shots,
proper outdid that hen night
that kept looking over.
I’ve got a cut over my left eye.

The third, well, was there a third?
Can’t have been much cop
if I can’t remember, can it?
My clothes are in a right state
and I’ve lost my shoes.
Think I need to be sick.


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