I want a mansion, stocked up with babes
secreted in cubby-holes and summoned with waves.
they’d sport frilly aprons and wear high-heeled shoes
and bring marmite butties with bottles of booze.
They can come from Bulgaria or Azerbaijan
smuggled in freighters, smothered in spam
to cushion the buffets and confuse their scent
Believe me, I’d count it as money well spent.
I suppose though - just to be realistic -
It would all go to shit and I’d become a statistic
Of course they’d revolt and go on a spree
of torture and murder and then by decree
They’d chop off my ‘nads with a sheffield steel knife
and let me bleed out to within an inch of my life
then they’d call me an ambulance with lights red and blue
after a quick botch-job fix with some old super-glue.[/size][/i]
I like it. It’s whimsical and fun with a serious undertone. Yes . . . except for the title. I am just not a fan of poems that seek to explicitly demonstrate the truth of some stated cliche. It’s a good piece, but reading the title turned me off from even wanting to attempt. I’m guessing you wrote the title after you wrote the poem; right?
Maybe someone else disagrees with me? Would love to hear other opinions.
Anyway, the interpetation thread by xyc gots me a thinkin’. So, common, author, well . . . actualy, whether you agree or not (:p), “marmite butties” is a play on STDs.
So, my suggestion . . . go with an imaginative title. I know that if I were you I might go right ahead and leave it untitled, and just bump up the first - quick paced, moving line - to the title.