Beau Brummagem


                         And thou Dalhousie the great God of War,
                         Lieutenant Colonel to the Earl of Mar.

                                                                             Peri Bathous



consarn it who may be it who enrolled
my tale is or worth and value of gold

who says cry my bold Sirs knave and
ragamuffin on a poor tout Armagh
reeve ye me a pilaster or twain ‘tis a
foster pity too o me Cotswolds avick!

that feather o’ my cap how like you it Sir-
rah? bah
it is o’ my fashion not my breastplate
I had the device made o’ my brother-in-law
the fairy-fire wick o’ me old Da’s oriflambeau
that’s codwalloped you then

your employer you bird you demijohn of
aviation freckles as sunlight spilled
I suck the glory of his art out the spout
the gargantuan gargoyle says spitting