A SHORT POEM TO MY "FRUIT JUBES", page-7

re: An Ode To NQ. (This should be in humour)

*An ODE to NQ.*


Now he lays himself down to sleep,
his hands to the groin once more doth creep,
His dreams are of VTI and the Jubes,
excited, blood pumping, he,quickly re-lubes,

Ahhhh... the thrill of the chase,
And the attention it fans,
eyes rolling back, sweat beads on his face,
he counts to 100,and then changes hands.

For his effort is zero,
his knowledge is less,
He relies on the frightened,
to feather his nest.

When down ramping , hes vocal, as he sneakily buys,
And remains totally silent, as he dumps on the rise,
Its all a big game, and faceless, who needs guts?
His hands move down further, “EEEEEK !... wheres my nuts”?

As the Jubes queue in line,plates in hand
for their greens and “NQ on a Spit,”
For the grapevine doth whisper, that times nearly up,
for him and his sh*t.

(Spharky wont kiss and tell...lol)