Leaking Brain Blues: Poetry Randoms

Poem The Sixth: Middle Class Niner

Hello, is that the police?

Oh good I thought that was a recording.

Am I speaking to a human?

Marvellous, 'tis most rewarding.

I am Sergeant Major, Retired,

Sir Wilkinson-Cholmondly-Constance.

I am using my social status,

To bolster my self-importance.

I demand a Constable immediately,

For some riff-raff has sometime this morn'

Painted a ten foot long likeness,

Of a willy on my front lawn.

I stand on one of my driveways,

Where I keep the Rolls and the Bentley.

Observing this god-awful eyesore,

Drawn out of boredom, evidently.

I am chums with the local MP,

And I sit as a parish councillor.

My importance should not be quibbled,

Nor should my Neighbourhood Watch sticker.

Why aren't you noting my quaffing?

I served in the war, you know!

I demand your respect this instant,

For in Dunkirk I splintered my elbow!

In the Queen's most excellent English,

One feels the need to annunciate.

That you're only a civilian officer,

Beneath me, minute and lightweight.

I sign off this call to say,

That your treatment of I was abhorrent.

I shall be putting my grievance in writing,

From my second home in Saint-Laurent!

© Mark Rothwell 2014