bum 1

The streets of London had let me down

For I could not find my Ruth

You see she had left me for a ruffian

A criminal if you want the truth


Yet undeterred I sought her

Thought I was on a roll

To win back the heart of young Ruth

Rather than have her be a gangster’s moll


Once I thought I saw her

In a bar near Charing Cross

Yet it was not she I had spotted

And I was at a loss


As to when and where I’d find her

Or if I’d find her at all

Thus imagine my delight that day

When from behind I heard her call


My name aloud, so good it was

To hear her dulcet tone

Yet she offered no words of solace

Just said, ‘Fuck off, leave me alone’


I thought that quite uncalled for

And protested thus

Yet as I turned to run to her

I was struck down by an omnibus


Dead, of course, killed outright

Now laying naked on a mortuary slab

Regretting I had walked the streets seeking Ruth

When I really should have gone by cab


The thing is now I plan to haunt the bitch

From here to kingdom come

My ghost will be Ruth’s nemesis

Yet my God I’ll miss her bum


Ruth had a bum to die for

Of that I’m the quite ‘dead proof’

Cheeks like two school boys chewing toffees

When she walked, that was my Ruth



    1. Brings out the latent juvenile still within this old fool. I’m off shopping in France tomorrow and, coffee on my table outside a French cafe my son and I will enjoy the pretty girls walking by – can’t help myself for it is one of life’s pleasures – in a good way I stress!

      1. Please, I love your latent juvenile-ism, probably most because I so relate. I often find myself staring at the young ones before I realize I’m old enough to be their mother.

      2. Even as my Eurotunnel train beckons I thought I’d take time out to agree entirely with you – although in my case I’m old enough to be their granddad.

  1. Quite the ditty, a typing ghost!! But what makes me giggle at every read is your comment precursor..”“Every time you like this page a London child is extracted from a chimney. Honest!” Makes me want to like on every page just to see children rescued from chimneys!

    1. Thank you – in point of fact it is the Facebook page for sozsatire I was aiming at here. You see as much as I have no particular liking for the cats, cakes and kids on Facebook sozsatire is a place where a few of us Mental Men chuck various skits upon and it thus scrolls down a bit like a comic. Tremendous fun if you like that sort of thing. Thanks again and rest assured the little blighter will be sent back up the chimney forthwith as Charlie Dickens is seeking out food for thought presently.

  2. Another very funny one…your poetry doesn’t cease to surpise and amuse…God knows how you managed to find such good use for the phrase ‘two schoolboys chewing toffees’;)

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