|
|
Horror at the grotto (Prose Poem) by scitz
Inside the brat ridden grotto
I laid in my urine completely blotto.
Saw a cute little kid writing his Xmas list
Who asked his mama what was wrong with me,
So I shouted to him âIâm a bit pissedâ
âand Iâm not Santa my names Alf and Santa donât existâ.
His Papa wrestled me to the floor
As minimum wage elves laughed in the sleigh
And through this savage beating and furore
All I heard was âMonroeâs Santa Babyâ play.
Blood trickled into nylon
And before I collapsed
I said âmince pie anyoneâ?
A kindly policeman took me away
To a warm whitewashed cell
And full English breakfast on Christmas day.
In the courtroom I changed my plea
But the Judge never felt Christmassy
He gave me 3 months at âher majestys pleasureâ
And now in the shower rooms
Iâm Leroys new treasure,
Who shouts âwhoâs your santa now white boyâ
You are I sayâ¦.you are Leroy.
Back to poem details
|