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Wednesday, 21 July 2010

The Meltonian Gene -- by Meltonian

Back in my Gloucestershire childhood,
the one thing that gave me a scare
was the two-headed lamb which stood
at the top of my granny’s stair.

It was in a plate-glass cabinet,
topped off by a castor-oil plant,
buffed like a dowager’s lorgnette
by my ancient four-armed aunt.

I gave it to the dustbin man,
but though it was totally sick,
my six-eyed uncle loved that lamb,
and granny’s eight legs were too quick.

So it stood in its usual place
with its dead eyes and its dandruff
and every time I hid my face
twelve fingers just weren’t enough.