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  The Devil's Foreskin, a funny poem about alcohol and award nights by Australian poet Graeme King. ©kingpoetry2008.

You can download this flash spoken poem. Right-click HERE and choose SAVE AS. Open with Internet Explorer.


I came up with a cocktail, based on rum and grenadine,

some cider, gin, tequila and sorbet,

it looked a treat, all fizzy, fruity swirls of potent green,

I carefully locked the recipe away.


For weeks I tweaked the ratios, until I had it right,

the perfect blend of knockout punch and kiss,

the famous Cocktail Contest would be held that Friday night,

my “Devil’s Foreskin” really couldn’t miss.


A special gala night held once in every hundred years,

each connoisseur would show their recipe,

a vast array of prizes for the best of wine and beers,

and plus - the Cocktail of the Century!


Come Friday, I was nervous and decided to rehearse,

no place up on the stage to improvise,

my life had turned into an alcoholic universe,

with but one aim – the Golden Cocktail Prize.


I mixed one up, and tried a sip, it wasn’t smooth and pure,

by drinking more I hoped to find the cause,

I made another five because I needed to be sure,

the last was great, and bound to win applause.


I made another three, in case my taste buds were immune,

they went down well - I drank another four,

deciding they were perfect, and the contest starting soon,

I grabbed my hat and headed for the door.


I woke up two days later lying face-down on the stairs,

too late to win the prize, I’d missed the Cup,

my Devil’s Foreskin should have been the answer to my prayers,

instead it left me weak and throwing up.


I gave up booze for ever, now I play with model trains,

my recipes grow dust upon the shelf,

should you invent the perfect drink – I hope you use your brains,

don’t test the bloody cocktail on yourself!

more of my FUNNY POEMS here

Original pictures by Graeme King ©Kingpoetry2008  BACK to TOP