I Walked On Golden Sandwiches

I walked on golden sandwiches 

The doughy softness ’neath my feet 

Where seldom one disparages 

The choice they make to eat. 

 

For here was egg and cress and cheese 

And bacon, beef and ham 

And there was chicken Milanese 

And turkey, tongue and Spam. 

 

I skirted round the gilded crusts 

As though it were the sarny’s gutter 

Where seeping out like yellowed rust 

Was "I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter" 

 

Oh, wondrous sandwiches that gleam 

Whose true abode would be Fort Knox 

I cannot but hold you in esteem 

Yet trample you in shoes and socks. 

 

And as I leapt from ’wich to ’wich 

And bounded in the fluffiness 

I stumbled on a teenage witch 

Of most unsightly scruffiness. 

 

She played upon a concertina 

Touting for odd bits of change. 

She said, "Yes, I am Sabrina 

And I know that this looks strange." 

 

"You see my audience has dropped 

’Cos people tired of comic witches. 

And since my T.V. show has flopped 

I’ve gone and blown all of my riches. 

 

Drink and drugs then took their toll 

And gambling took the dosh I’d made 

And then I was living in a hole 

Cold and hungry and so afraid. 

 

But then I found a ragged script 

That of the final episode 

That ne’er was shot because they’d nipp’d 

The ailing series in the bud. 

 

And hence there lay one final spell 

That no one from the show had uttered. 

And all at once I knew too well 

Just how my bread was to be buttered 

 

Gold! I cried. Oh give me gold 

Let it be my daily bread 

Give me riches to behold 

And live with until I am dead. 

 

And now you see my sorry state, 

No longer hungry, no longer poor. 

But I must bear my awful fate 

For from this place there is no door. 

 

So, please, I beg you, spare some change 

For begging’s all I do 

My hair is ridden with the mange 

And I sleep in my own poo." 

 

And as I looked upon this wretch 

I knew she told the truth 

For from her came an awful stench 

Which made me go "Gor Streuth!" 

 

But then my blood began to race 

And I smacked her round the head 

And as I kicked her in the face 

This is what I said: 

 

"You silly, stupid, soddin’ bitch 

No way am I gonna pay yer. 

I’ve no time for a teenage witch 

For I am Buffy the Vampire Slayer." 

 

• Washing Up In The Nude
• Bike
• Chips
• National Curry Day
• Go East Young Man
• Bachelor Gay
• Poultry
• A Song In My Heart
• Finger On The Button
• A Postcard From Paris
• Beansprouts
• Nob Gags
• Bollocks
• Boris Et Al
• Crustylingus
• Auntie Brenda’s Pheasant
• I Walked On My Own Feet A Bit
• Shiter’s Block
• Thank Friday It’s Curry Day
• Look At Me I’m Wonderful
• The Glisten On The Aubergine
• In The Park
• Being Smelly
• Great Fat Hairy Arseholes
• The Shits
• My Old Man’s A Dustman
• Star Trek
• Ode To My Stapler
• Chairs
• Waldrapp Ibis
• Bum Cracks
• Die Like Elvis
• Kelp
• Fuck
• I Walked On Golden Sandwiches
• We Are All Tubes
• Underwear
• If I Were
• I Want A Wee Wee
• Pervert
• GDPR
• Grimsby Fair
• Ode To O
• Let’s Swap Snot
• A Poet’s Life
• Come To Grimsby
• Ill Ness
• Brian Is A Cunt
• National Poetry Day
• A Postcard From Cairo
• The Secret Life Of The Wheat Crunchie
• When
• The Breakfast Song
• Dining At The Y
• Zafira
• Born To Be A Cunt
• Goose
• Bog Troll
• Printer Friendly Version
• JFK
• Theme For An Imaginary Soap
• Owed To Ayrton
• Safe Word

Shitespace | Stories