Tuesday, April 11, 2017

A Beer song

Statutory warning: Drinking they say is injurious to "Your" health (not mine) People in their right senses not to read this poem.


Hic-a-one, hic-a-two, hic-a-three
no, hic-a-four, no
and
stop, stop, stop
I feel ticklish
there’s a belly in my fire
and, I dance
tap-a-tap-a-tap-a-tap
and, I laugh
bu-aha-aha-ha-ha-oha-ha
and, there’s a belly in my fire

I plead to the girl
in the polka dotted dress,
to help me
arrange these words?
How do I fit my belly, in my fire?

she smiles
she swirls her polka frock, walks, says, I am tipsy
And, there’s my belly
And, the fire
I am jumbled
where do I fit my belly, in my fire?

Ah-Whistles-whistles-whistles-ah
I hear a bear in the beer
And, the beer says,
hic-a-hic
Hic-a-hic,
hic, hic, hic
And, a chic…chick

Oops, i'll come back tomorrow
to do the lines
As of now, i am just
hic-a-hic


Copyright @ Ajay Pai  4th April 2017
Image courtesy - AJ's personal collection

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