WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF SIEGFRIED SASSOON HAD TURNED TO THE BLUE SIDE...
I SAY THAT HE WAS FREDDY
Darkness: the sluice rained down;
The pockets were deep;
It was well past the post on a midsummer's flight
When parping nuns lay in bed snug up tight;
There, with much gargling to do before daylight,
We lugged our sweaty bodies as best we might
Along the gutter; sometimes a blackbird sang
And droning belles burst with a hollow bang
We were sozzled, soiled and wretched, everyone;
Darkness: the distant wink of a lady of pleasure
I tossed in the black ditch, loathing the warm;
A firework fizzled and cackled with excruciating flare,
And lit the arse of what had been a face
Floundering in the dish. He stood before me bare;
I say that he was Freddy; stiffened in the glare,
And arcing upwards from his burgeoning task,
Both love sacs in support; His focus all mine
Proud from the whimsical head that wore no mask
Of immoral pain in Mon Venus's unholy shrine.
And pounding in haste, the impatient buck
Mumbling: 'O Manchester United, now I'm stuck!"