I came up
with a cocktail, based on rum and grenadine,
gin, tequila and sorbet,
it looked a
treat, all fizzy, fruity swirls of potent green,
locked the recipe away.
For weeks I
tweaked the ratios, until I had it right,
blend of knockout punch and kiss,
Cocktail Contest would be held that Friday night,
Foreskin” really couldn’t miss.
gala night held once in every hundred years,
connoisseur would show their recipe,
a vast array
of prizes for the best of wine and beers,
and plus -
the Cocktail of the Century!
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,
more I hoped to find the cause,
another five because I needed to be sure,
the last was
great, and bound to win applause.
another three, in case my taste buds were immune,
down well - I drank another four,
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,
Foreskin should have been the answer to my prayers,
left me weak and throwing up.
I gave up
booze for ever, now I play with model trains,
grow dust upon the shelf,
invent the perfect drink – I hope you use your brains,
the bloody cocktail on yourself!
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FUNNY POEMS here