In bounds the surgeon, scalpel aloft, in baton salute to Michael Johnston,
I await, wired in rainbow colours, a delicious lobotomy,
He booms booms his hellos, a cheerful echo of a cake crumbed Brian Johnston
My my this will be a job!, mmm yes there is an awful lot of me.

I admire his impeccable attire, head to toe, a neo Don Johnston,
Any last wishes he cheerfully asks, perhaps a nice cup of tea?
He circles and wafts scent and soap, courtesy of Johnston & Johnston,
As I slowly and slowly drift off into hyper monotony.

© Rob perspiring-poet

In hyperspace, how cool to be in a *******, as we hurtle towards the Sun,
But as the parsecs fly by, even such naughtiness becomes just a little boring,
We giggle and wish for an alien to join the fun,
Imagine our delight as a strange craft begins mooring.

Who, and what are you, we exclaim,
I am boy or girl, man or woman, ever willing and never beaten,
Will you join with us, we say in winking refrain,
Imagine our surprise, as we cheerfully entwine, and one by one are slowly eaten.

© Robert Porteus