Three Words Daily (Or whenever you like)

Mrs Badcrumbles arthritis

and her piles

of forbidden fruit

bats hanging from

her enlarged piles

which didn't help

anyone standing nearby

said the policeman

in tit helmet

was standing on

a rotating drum

of chocolate eclairs

dipped in double-cream

Mopping his brow

munching on chow

notebook ready he

wiped his arse

on a bunny

a euphemism for

straining gooseberry-pulp through

a ladies stocking

crotchless, but very

humid, causing a

build up of

moist and smelly

nether region gases

ready to escape...

which will catalyse

and galvanise the-most

down-trodden lava beetle

licking his pencil

whilst reciting poetry

burnt his rump

and it was

on the menu

of the restaurant

at-the end-of the-universe

where Brains faggots

and mashed potato

for old people

through a straw

I smell wee-wee

and Cliff Richard

with devil women

and evil on

when gobbling your

not so discrete

throbbing protuberant appendage

while doing the

hand shandy shuffle