No 325         February 03


Geoff’s sitting by his PC,

And he is playing “pop”,

He can’t keep up with my poetry,

And wishes I would stop.


He’s got a new name as you know,

“Fingers” he is called,

Well at the rate I’m working him,

He’ll need new ones installed.


He’s sitting there surrounded,

By poems I’ve just churned out,

He said “please make a coffee”

More poems I can do without.


Well I think it’s therapeutic,

We’ve got a production line,

The words you read are typed by Geoff,

The poetry is mine.


So now I’ll make the coffee,

Give our man a little break,

But I also treat him very well.

It will come with a cake.