These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.
20 April 2010
I discovered when Lynette
went psychedelic and Philippa
practically came down with vertigo
from the wild mix of colours;
or when Philippa fell for the bricklayer
with all the tatts, that time,
while Lynette was still dreaming
of some wimpy type who dumped her.
So it was surprising when, after all,
years later they fell for the same bloke.
It caused the most frightful ructions
when he settled on Lynette. Half the family
decided to boycott the wedding,
the other half insisted they’d all be there
with bells on. Everyone took sides.
The prospective bridegroom
didn’t quite know what he’d done.
In the end they all turned up,
and to everyone’s amazement
Philippa walked down the aisle too
as chief bridesmaid. The trouble was
she got incredibly drunk afterwards
and offered to do a striptease.
The groomsmen cheered. The bride,
not to be upstaged, joined in
while their parents almost fainted.
They were indeed identical twins —
well, as far as we got to see.
The groom grabbed the bride
and yelled, ‘This has gone far enough!’
She stopped the show to kiss him.
‘You can have him,’ Philippa said.
‘I wouldn’t want anyone
ordering ME around like that,’
and off she stomped, all snooty.
Everyone ended up legless
and Philippa disappeared awhile
with the best man — a little bloke
with a ribald sense of humour.
So they all lived happily ever after?
Not exactly. Philippa took up strip-tease
for real; Lynette joined a fundie church.
And they argued about it; alike in that
they just couldn’t agree to differ.
NaPoWriMo Day 19.