Hubris.co.nz

An online journal since 1998

Hubris Eve

I am very busy with party preparation right now, but oh my stars, Karen just wrote me an awesome poem, so I will share it with you now, and see you tomorrow for Ten Years of Hubris, right?

‘twas the night before hubris & all through the house
A creature was purring – was it Seb with a mouse?
The stockings were strewn on the floor without care
In hope that somehow knots would vanish from her hair

The cupcakes were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of cocktails danced in the sheds
And Jomamma in her corset was feeling quite crap
So she addled her brains and curled up for a nap

When out on the terrace there arose such a clatter
She sprang from the couch, hoping zombies to splatter
Away to the kitchen she flew like a lush
Tore open the icebags and emptied the slush

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen ho
Gave the lust of her heyday to objects too slow
When, what to her wandering eyes should appear,
But a miniature gin and a pink elephant, dear

With a little old drinker so lively and quick
She knew in a moment he could not be a prick
More rabid than bear-corns on horses they came
And he whistled and shouted and called them rude names

Now Flasher! now Exotic Dancer! Now Prancer & Vixen!
No Comment on Stupid old Donna (not bitchin’)
To the top of the booth! To the top of the wall!
Now pash away! Slash away! Trash away all!

As dry peep’s that before the hurricane glass cry
When they meet with an obstacle, mounted on ply
So up to the top shed the carousers they flew
With a tray full of joys, and ridiculous stew

And then, while still tinkling, she heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of those once aloof
As she threw back her head and was spinning around
Down the hatchet came booth-patrons, for a pound

He was dressed all in (Lisa)Fur from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with splashes of toot
A bundle of joys he had thrown on its back
And he looked like a paedo, “just hop in this nice sack”

Her eyes-how they twinkled! her drunkenness merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose smelled a cherry!
Her droll little mouth was drawn up in a moue,
And the glass in her hand was filled up on the go.

The stump of a roll she held clamped in her teeth
And the smell it encircled her head like a wreath.
She had a bored face and a little round Sebby
And everyone laughed when they saw vodka jelly

She was clubby and primped, her right jolly old self,
And I drank when I saw her, in spite of myself!
A wink of her eye and a twist of her bootie,
Soon gave me to know she had some kind of cootie.

She spoke plenty words, for that is her true work,
And filled all the glasses, then turned out the jerk.
And laying her finger inside of her nose,
And giving a nod, she became more verbose!

She sprang to her tray, to her team gave a titter,
And away they all flew just to giggle on twitter.
But I heard her exclaim, ‘ere she hove out of sight,
“Happy hubris to all, and to all a good-night!”

- Karen McLeod, 2009.

1 Comment

  1. My party was awesome and I’m glad to be leaving the first comment on my new site.

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