Showdown In The Store

Showdown In The Store prose poem

Showdown In The Store prose poemPhoto by Elsie esq.

On that grimy Grimsday morn,
The grumble deep and culby,
There came a tinker-pick inside
His appence crink and bulby.

In thrumped a jangle-mangle man,
With his coat and hat so hangled,
His hair a-plot, his peepers piped,
At the tinker-pick as he snangled.

The jangle-mangle man spied him,
And pushed out all his thickery.
His pipes upon the tinker-pick,
Said “Weff’n dust that tickery?”

The tinker-pick, he springled then
And drew his shicker-bam.
But the jangle-mangle man was quick,
His too was soon in hand.

They stumped there, shicker-bams to mugs
For nearly twenty peel.
Till then the tinker-pick took toe,
And ran off with his steal.

But then, oh then a mighty crunk
As a shicker-bam was trigged,
And on the wash the tinker-pick
He died, and there he gligged.

The jangle-mangle man approached
And handed back my shing.
And with a windmill thrumped right out.
Now worrin’ that a thing…

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Ed Gosling

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My muse is like an excitable dog. It catches sight of totally random things and starts yapping and running around and wagging its tail and WILL NOT STOP until I write a poem about it.My poetry is sometimes based on personal experience and sometimes on other things. Aside from that, I enjoy video games (My favourite game series is Mass Effect) and the popular television show My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.
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