“Well Done!” you said, delighted,
A grin streaked across your face.
Perhaps you think us adversaries,
But “Heil!” in any case.
We are honoured that you’re honoured,
and that your response was jovial.
Irreverend wit, a little bit shit,
but not stonicular or ovial.
Unfortunately, there seems to be
a miscommunication.
You are worthy of our laughter, sir,
but that wasn’t the occasion.
It was not your Hon. Person, sir,
that we parodied that day.
But Stephania, alma mater,
whom we cherish, love and pay.
Where a turbid stream of reason
writhes through pipes and drains,
and what little reaches residence loos
may wash bums, but never brains.
It is not disdain for you, sir,
or our lovely police-statelet;
when you hear anguished cries,
we ask not for palaces, but platelets.
You are surprised that you have “forced us out”
and of the venom you sense a leak of.
But who indeed has locked-and-keyed
these “rat holes” that you speak of?
Of course we found your marital missive,
We didn’t look too far.
LOL! LOL! The title screamed,
in the gutter where we are.
You say that our anonymity
remains your only sadness.
Surely, sir, it’s that and hipsters.
God, what utter madness.
Nonetheless, you have been gracious,
in addressing our mockery
with the same vigour that you reserve
for important things, like crockery.
Now that you know we mean no harm,
we hope it’s not a slog
for you to grant a baffled crowd
a little dialogue.
For in the end it’s just us, sir.
They will depart who fawn.
Leaving you with us – your legacy.
Us and some gorgeous lawns.
A grin streaked across your face.
Perhaps you think us adversaries,
But “Heil!” in any case.
We are honoured that you’re honoured,
and that your response was jovial.
Irreverend wit, a little bit shit,
but not stonicular or ovial.
Unfortunately, there seems to be
a miscommunication.
You are worthy of our laughter, sir,
but that wasn’t the occasion.
It was not your Hon. Person, sir,
that we parodied that day.
But Stephania, alma mater,
whom we cherish, love and pay.
Where a turbid stream of reason
writhes through pipes and drains,
and what little reaches residence loos
may wash bums, but never brains.
It is not disdain for you, sir,
or our lovely police-statelet;
when you hear anguished cries,
we ask not for palaces, but platelets.
You are surprised that you have “forced us out”
and of the venom you sense a leak of.
But who indeed has locked-and-keyed
these “rat holes” that you speak of?
Of course we found your marital missive,
We didn’t look too far.
LOL! LOL! The title screamed,
in the gutter where we are.
You say that our anonymity
remains your only sadness.
Surely, sir, it’s that and hipsters.
God, what utter madness.
Nonetheless, you have been gracious,
in addressing our mockery
with the same vigour that you reserve
for important things, like crockery.
Now that you know we mean no harm,
we hope it’s not a slog
for you to grant a baffled crowd
a little dialogue.
For in the end it’s just us, sir.
They will depart who fawn.
Leaving you with us – your legacy.
Us and some gorgeous lawns.