Poetry by Jeff Green


The Bits Between

by cricketjeff on January 19, 2011.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

While meerkats talk insurance with an opera-singing oaf
The hero’s life depends on fingertips
Two children beg for slices of a half-unhealthy loaf
With lovers left uncoupled at the lips
There’s fifteen minutes action then it’s time to make the tea
I don’t want all the rubbish that they want to sell to me

I’ll settle down to Shakespeare, did he drive a Jaguar?
Or wonder if the world has seen a change
An earthquake kills ten-thousand while a minor not-a-star
Is demonstrating something rather strange
But I’m off in the kitchen toasting scones and slicing cake
Before some noble no-one tries to flog another fake

We ought to have a respite with the “good old BBC”
But they still try to emulate the ads
In between the proper programmes they are sure we want to see
A trailer for “The Search for Britain’s Dads”
But I shan’t hear the nonsense I’ll be heading for the loo
In there I’ll be producing less offensive piles of poo

I know that for our pleasures we must pay the piper’s price
I don’t begrudge a reasonable return
But I don’t want to listen to a jingle praising rice
Or watch a washed up politician girn
Some adverts are amusing but the rest I can’t forgive
Should tuneless dancing bankers be allowed a chance to live?

Author notes

For those without Cumbrian connections, girning (or gurning) is the art of pulling grotescue faces