A tale I wrote
I stepped inside my local store,
Where Fred the owner had strange things galore.
“Hello there, sir, what’ll it be?”
“I’m not sure... reveal your stock to me.”
“I’ve several crates of strawberry wigs,
And multi-coloured marble pigs.
Perhaps you’d like a cauliflower ear?”
“Heavens no! How would I hear?”
“How would you hear? Just listen please,
I’ve hearing aids sculpted from cheese.”
“That’s OK, my hearing’s fine.
Do you have some nice red wine?”
“I’m afraid I’ve sold all of my drink,
But do you need a kitchen sink?
I’ve got one here I think you’ll like,
It’s made of plaice and cod and pike.”
“I’m sorry, Fred, I’m left confused,
No-one sells such things, I’m quite bemused.”
“You’re right young man, what you say is fair,
But look at me, do you think I care?!”
I looked at the man from his head to his toes,
And noticed he was wearing peculiar clothes.
“What have you got on, you funny old man?”
“My sushi shorts, they’re from Japan!”
“Well they smell rotten, just like your scarf,
Remove it please, or I might barf.”
“What’s wrong with my scarf? Just have a feel,
It’s made from genuine, jellied eel.”
I tried to walk back from the stench,
As my eyes saw a garden bench.
“Dare I ask, what’s that over there?”
“A bench,” said Fred. “Made from old underwear.”
The bench was brown and stained all yellow,
“What’s wrong with you, you disgusting fellow?”
“What do you mean? They’re all the rage,
Just like this stuffing, it’s chocolate and sage!
“If you don’t like that, then look at these,
They’re fluffy gloves designed for knees.
Maybe that’s not quite your thing,
So how about this bacon ring?
“If meaty jewellery is not for you,
I’ve Klingon copies of Winnie the Pooh.
A thousand eggs sit on my shelf,
All were laid by a Christmas elf.”
“You can stop now, Fred, I must get back,
I only came in for a quick, little snack.”
“A snack you say? What do you desire?
I’ve humbugs here that taste like fire.
“Or how about some sugared squid?
It will only cost you 25 quid.
And in the back I’ve a special treat,
Lemon custard, smeared on meat.”
“Shut your mouth, you silly old freak,
The things you’re selling are rather weak!
They’re weird and gross and in fact quite dear,
Just give me a pizza or chips or some beer.”
“Get out!” he yelled. “If you don’t like change,
In here it’s you, not I who’s strange.”
He used a sausage to slap my face,
Before I ran outside with haste.
A dark cloud opened and rain hit my head,
As I started to think about the old owner Fred.
It’s true he was odd, but I was unkind.
I just stood there cursing my sad, narrow mind.