Back from Aussie, I Might Go Crazy

...and I made it just in time

To bust a rhyme

Vic and Kim, how're ya'?

Gustave's back from Australia!





Vic tries to dissuade with "Really, Gus? Really?"

Though there's no stopping the mojo already.

From sonnets to rap, to abab,

Marvin's ding-dong streches from a to z.

(Look at your keyboard.)





But, enough with the random verbal barrage,

Meant to break through my blogger's block.

Now I know Aussie's no mere mirage,

Zebra-crossings work...like what the fock?!




Kimmy, Vic, don't leave me behind,

To Melbourne we go together,

Where the waves are cool and the sand is fine,

Hey, half the time we'll be sober.




My eyes are tired, my brain is fried,

And my skin is sun-roasted.

I say a prayer for the cells that died

And that skin cancer I have not contracted.





Melbourne, Melbourne, Melbourne... Loo,

Off to VTAC, on the phone!

Pack my bags and Iris too,

So Kim will never sing alone.




Vic, don't you dare go off to Singapore,

Coz God is coming, and so will you.

Before this poem becomes a bore...

Oh crap, I just realised how wrong that sounded...whoo-hoo!




Fine, I know that last line,

Granted, I may have cheated.

Hey, I just wanna say,

Alright, let's party tonight.




This little parade must come to an end,

As through each stanza I stumble with rhyme.

Nadal nor Lampard will I pretend,

For ball smacking deserves not my time.

And it goes on and on and on again!