Ode to The Box
an alliterative love poem.
I get proper, proper bored,
because book are bollocks, aren’t they?
Who reads whodunnits nowadays?
And they’re just so slow,
going on and on.
Anyway, what would be the focal point of your lounge?
You’d end up sat, staring and smiling at each other,
with everybody thinking the same thing…
‘I’ve got to get my fix!’
And you’d have nothing to talk about,
you would wonder ‘what use are you lot?’
And you know, you are fully aware,
that their only use was,
fetching the telly thing, from the coffee table.
So you could put a bloody good program on.
I right love telly.
And, I think that telly right loves me.