Sunday, February 12, 2006

The porpoise is the poor man's dolphin,
And you are the poor man's me;
The lady-in-waiting let Rolf in
To paint a portrait of the Quee

I was living with Gareth in Krakatau.
That’s where we met -
In the crater;
And I had a serviette -
Like a waiter -
Over my arm, draped neatly,
Which vanished completely
Every time the volcano erupted;
But apart from this, uninterrupted
Serviette-wearing could be enjoyed,
Though I was never formally employed
As a waiter.