Generation Gap Year

Extended adolescence is
Two dudes on a skate date at six
Discussing their need
For some quality weed
While comparing the length of their tricks

With their tracksuits and caps off The Now Show
And their t-shirts ironic, profound
They both chat and rejoice
In the sound of their voice
As home counties vowels litter the ground

Not quite yet with one foot on the ladder
Are these kool kats establishment-bound
With their pals in the pub
Serving plates of posh grub
Mockney rules ’til the tools owe a round

Then they’re back pulling pints of an evening
While the board sits at home in the lounge
Pinching pennies for blow
Giving housemates a show
As the park’s still the best game in town

From my viewpoint as elderly spinster
I ignore what excites at their age
Though it seems such good fun
I’ve a hunch they’ve broken
Every bone from their knees to ribcage

Rhyming ditty

The shyness of the English upper classes
Does little with the brasher middle set,
For chalky-pale or florid,
The comparison seems horrid
And the cheese must be reserved for epithet.

On peahens in public

There is a particular quality
To ladies of ‘the quality’ – who lisp.
It’s a highly peculiar thing,
A phenomenon, if you will –
But these women one meets
Through a twist of fate
Are frequently vile
And riddled with hate
For all those that they meet.
We lesser mortals – of doubtful morals
Provide much amusement for those
Glorious peahens, who
Drab in their mohairs, do
Choose to take offence
At the slightest of slights
And imagined slurs
Too much of his
What she views as hers.
I do not pretend to know
Why they upset me so.
If it has yet anything whatsoever
To do with their impediment
But nevertheless, I must confess:
These women have caused me no end of distress.
For perched upon their dignity
And sniffing with solemnity
They can spoil with great alacrity
And even a flourish of
Courageous snubbage:
Any social occasion.