NaPoWriMo: Day 3. A jolly fragment.


This is a fragment. Or a rough, first draft. Or a piece of writing that should be binned. Or a work of genius. Dear reader…make up your own mind.

It is also, like yesterday’s, very today. Which makes intrinsic sense. Kind of…

This may, or may not, be about me.

This may, or may not, be about a certain young man I know.

I may, or may not, know any certain young men…

I’ve had 20 milligrams of codeine and a glass of pinot grigio…I should know better than to write in this state…

St. Bartholomew’s

Sally met a boy, whilst walking to the fair

He very kindly offered, to escort her there

He took her to the side-shows,

And won a fluffy bear.


He gave the bear to Sally, a token of esteem

He said “I’m young and boyish, but I’m not all that I seem”

He took her up the alley

And got right in between.


As the sun was setting, Sally set off back

Returning to the chores and stife,

Inherent to  being mother and wife

Left the boy to his carefree life

Rolling young girls in the sack


Next week she went to market

Spied the boy once more

Dodged around the fruit and veg

Lest he think her a bore

He found her by the carrots and peas

Stroked her till she fell to her knees

Begging him “oh young boy please

Stop it…you’re doing my head in”



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