Thursday 1 May 2008

ON NUMEROUS OCCASIONS…

On numerous occasions,
Caucasians cause Asians,
To interact with crustaceans,
And react with fear,
Before the misunderstanding becomes clear…
Over lobsters and mobsters.
To perpetrate this dread,
With confusing words said,
Suggests the involvement of atleast one sick head.
With both feet on the ground,
One is on terra firma,
Which,
Sounding like a nickname for the Mafia,
Makes one tremor.

Why did the Asian light bulb salesman upset the overweight woman?
By saying, ‘Sell you light, sell you light?’
Only to quake at a lobster’s nonchalant sight,
Acting so visibly consumed with fright.
‘Watts going on?’ he quips,
After he sells
A light bulb, and fits it,
And tells
How, after years of darkness,
He loves his brighter spells.
After explanation,
His fear of lobster quells,
As—
Going like the clappers,
A campanologist rings on their bell,
While, selling lots of light bulbs,
The Asian’s coffers swell,
As far as he’s concerned,
The lobster goes to hell.

An arresting sight is seen
As he’s taken in by a local cop.
‘I’m arresting you for lobster fear,
You light bulb selling fool,’
Says the cop, looking cruel.
‘I’m over that,’ the Asian protests,
Though trying to stay cool.
‘You can’t scare me now with lobsters,
Either on their own,
Or in a pool!’
‘Very well, you’re off the hook.’
The copper lets him go.
‘But the slightest future twitch—
I’ll swear—my snitch,
The campanologist,
Will let me know.’
‘Thank you, constable,
For setting me free.
Take a 100-watt light bulb,
Please, have it on me.’
The salesman is happy,
The constable can see,
Smiling, he accepts a bulb,
Before going home for tea.

Before tea,
The PC tries to cop a feel,
Of his wife,
He gives her some old spiel.
Rebuffed, embarrassed,
He plays it down,
‘Really, it’s no big deal.’
He cries into his helmet,
Then laughs—
As lobster is their meal!

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