I am afraid of wooden juice,
I don’t know how it works,
I know of liquid juices and
The taste, the thrill, the perks!
My mind cannot comprehend
How solid juice will fit
Down my neck and throat,
Won’t it get stuck in my armpit?
People say to chop it up,
“That’s the best way to do it!”
But others say that doesn’t do,
“You should just opt to neck it!”
As the days wear on I struggle
As to my final decision,
So I flip a coin in the end,
To avoid further mind collision.
It lands on ‘heads’, I’m doing it,
I’ll drink it down in one!
I tilt my head back slowly
Oh, the process has begun!
I woke up in the hospital,
The doctors say I’ll last.
There’s a jug next to my bedside,
This time I’ll drink it fast!
20 comments on “Wooden Juice – a poem”
It’s good to know you’re still writing poetry to your own unfathomable rhythm.
Is wooden juice different to wooden Jews?
I wrote it off the top of my head, that’s my excuse. We all (both?) know though that had I spent some time going through it, that it would still have a shonky rhythm.
There’s a massive difference. One you can buy in the supermarket, one is a Christmas toy.
Are wooden Jews different to wooden jaws?
‘Wooden Jaws’ was an attractive wooden monument to Steven Spielberg’s film of the same name which was erected in Norwich in 1985 and ran for ten years. Quite how a statue ran with no legs is anyone’s guess.
Now wooden jools is an interesting prospect…
Wooden Jools is that tedious guy who does the Hootenanny, isn’t he? What I want to hear about are wooden jewels. I seem to remember the Saint King promised me some.
Nah, wooden jewels wouldn’t interest you. They give you splinters when you try to swim through them. How about wooden jibes?
I can’t swim through wooden jibes so I’m out.
Have you ever gone to a discotheque and indulged in a few wooden jives?
I did. It was 1998 and I didn’t know any better. The looks on people’s faces at the time still haunt me to this day. I am currently going through ‘artist therapy’ where I draw the things that scarred me. I hope to one day include a drawing of me indulging in the jives one day. One day.
In your recent travels, have you come across any wooden pies?
Wooden pies are far too chewy unless you pulp them and make them into paper, and even then they don’t even rival a Gregg’s Steak Bake so I’d leave well alone.
Wooden eyes though?
I think Ian got some wooden eyes fitted earlier this year. If I’ve been keeping count right, they’re his twelfth pair.
While we’re on the subject, what about pod eyes?
Like I could afford a Gregg’s Steak Bake at today’s prices!
My wooden eyes can see any wooden structure up to 300 yards away. They’re my most prized possession.
Pod eyes? Poured Ice?
Prawn Dice?
Paw dies?
Paul Lice?
Poor nice?
Prod lice?
Porn slice?
I’ll have a porn slice to take away, please, and a pair of prawn dice. Thanks.
Someone’s in for a cheeky evening 😉
Keep your filth to yourself, Chris
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