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." 

 

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

Shitespace | Stories