Eighteen months ago the same programme featured Alastair Reid's poem The O-filler.
I wonder if there are enough poems on this subject to make an anthology?
A little b●y called R●bert R●se,
Whenever reading verse ●r pr●se
W●uld ●ften c●l●ur in the O’s.
He used a pencil for the j●b
And made each O an ●di●us bl●b.
Unhappily for R●bert R●se,
He caught a strange disease
Where O’s appeared between his t●es
And then behind his knees.
His elb●w, thr●at & then his n●se
Were sl●wly ●vergr●wn with O’s,
Then suddenly, ●h w●e, alack!
Th●se ●vals went c●mpletely black.
He died ●f c●urse, which ●nly sh●ws
Y●u sh●uldn’t mess ar●und with O’s
D●ug Macle●d
Links
The world of Doug Macleod
Poetry Please
School’s Out John Foster
Related post
The O-filler
