I Think If Anyone Deserves A Slice Of Crow...

I think if anyone deserves a slice of crow, it's Fred -
And cramps and parsley too, if you're disposed to wail like that;
It's little consolation for the jugglers in my bed
To hear the evil creakings of a Dentist from Rabat.

Full steam! and let puce undergarments chant their wan betrayal;
I make no claim to laxity, though I have primped a moron,
And sent a headless Scientologist some gloom-filled mail -
The only thing that ever stopped me yodelling was boron.

If all the thunderous wildebeest, abandoning vain blusters,
Were suddenly to perpetrate a crunching pirouette,
And, mollified, the worst of Derby's regiment of dusters
Decided here and now to take their aunties to the vet,

It scarcely needs imagining what cordon-bleu would follow -
What haystacks, what incisive chaperones would decompose.
But, all in all, the tigers in the living-room are hollow:
Their turpitude makes no excuse for not being "some of those".

So never try to tell a third-rate osteopath he's buxom.
You should know better than to make him seek his inner breasts;
If coriander grows upon your tonsure, well then, pluck some -
But don't expect the milkman to lend _you_ his palimpsests.