Poetry by Jeff Green


The Hedge Fund

by cricketjeff on February 15, 2011.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

I used to know a topiarist
Who rarely made a friend
He used his art form to assist
His mission to offend
Expressing every point of view
In neatly tonsured blocks of yew
He pruned a bush beside a park
To form a human hand
And even in the deepest dark
You’d clearly understand
A finger for a swivel, where
Most folk would sit with utmost care.
A pair of breasts had pointed tips
Strategically placed
And what he snipped between two lips
Was rather far from chaste
In fact some thought his attitude
Was frankly bordering on rude!
His neighbours therefore weren’t amazed
To see his latest piece
Although his taste was rarely praised
It offered light relief
A bending figure on the grass
With naked well divided arse!