imageI’m going to bathe with Ray Bradbury
And soak in his various tales
Or I might take a dip
With young Chuck Palahniuk
Or read of a Mellvian whale.
I could even have bubbles with Shakey
Or take Eric Arthur – he’s sick.
But if Burgess emerges
like Clockwork his dirges
will feature in my Limerick.
I could take a soakin’ with Edgar
And his ol’ Raven Lunatic
And do some explainin’
As legs get a shavin’
That Chuck’s surname’s pronounced Paula-nick.
I shall maybe go bathe with Sam Beckett
So Godot can maybe find me
And perhaps Stephen Hawking
Can do all the talking
Whilst I bathe and daydream of Sir P.
Ol’ Isaac ain’t gettin’ a look in
And neither is poor ol’ JB
And dear Ben sits alone now
On a shelf on his own while
The others all bow to Chuck P.
But no time for a tale in the bath now
I never do take in a book
The intention is there
To read, wash my hair,
When I’d rather aspire to be Chuck.
For the truth is, I’m sitting here writing
Whilst wallowing in my own muck
I’m soaking and thinking
Prevented from sinking
By mere thoughts of all wordstuff from Chuck.

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